


Brother

by artinthedark, Spotofpaint



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America trying to be better brother, Blood, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Christmas Fluff, Cold War, FACE Family, Family, Fluff, FrUK, Friendship, Gen, Graphic Description, Human & Country Names Used, Human and Nation Names, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Instability, Mentions of Berlin Wall, Missing, Mommy Britain, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Papa France, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Past Violence, Psychological Torture, Russia's pipe, Snowball Fight, Trauma, Violence, Voyeurism, WWIII, gerita - Freeform, magic spells, prucan, twin swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 208,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artinthedark/pseuds/artinthedark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spotofpaint/pseuds/Spotofpaint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing should be able to come between the unbreakable bond of brothers, but life can get in the way of any relationship. Canada and America aren't as close as they once were but when a dooming message is given to the countries from the future, things get a little hectic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for America! And Alfred

Brother

Authors note: This was originally an RP (role play) between Artiluna55 (or Artinthedark) and myself. As such, the story doesn’t quite read in the usual flow of some of my other works, or Artiluna’s for that matter. Please keep that in mind as you work your way through. Also, the first few chapters deal with the recently passed presidential election in America. (2004) We tried to keep it rather light-hearted and unbiased, but if we ended up stepping on anyone’s political toes, well, oh well. Thirdly, anyone who’s interested in romance won’t find much here. The only pairing we have is Canada and Prussia, and the story is not descriptive of their relations. Our plot is much more revolved around the theme of a looming threat of WWIII and how the countries handle said threat. Last but not least, we felt the need to add a brief disclaimer, mainly for the CIA because there’s a lot of talk in here about things like blowing up Canada and America and the possibility of WWIII, etc. So, officially: CIA, this is a fanfiction based on an anime series. Anything written here is NOT meant to be taken seriously. Thank you.  
As always, dedicated readers, I’m glad to be back in the game again. Please enjoy!

~Spotofpaint 

 

Chapter 1  
A is for America!  
And Alfred!

Alfred reached for the phone. His hand trembled just a bit. Although it was true that he went through every four years for hundreds of years, he reminded himself, it never made it any easier. He was always in conflict and could never seem to choose a side until that first week in November. It would pass, he knew, but for the meantime it was sometimes nice to unload on someone. Someone who it might be a little funny to torment...just a bit. It would at least relieve some of the tension he'd been feeling. And so, he picked up his cell phone (it was the newest version of the iphone of course, with a ton of apps, and a touch screen and it was smart!) And he called the one person he really could (Other than Matt, who would just bum him out with all his talk about his political set up and how it was better than America's.)   
Putting it to his ear, he heard it ring, once, twice, and then someone on the other end picked up.  
"Hello?"  
"Yo! Arthur! Wassup?" 

Oh great, Britain thought to himself.   
"I am a little busy right now, America."  
He shuffled through some papers on his desk as he tried to put the document he was currently reading back in proper order. With America's elections coming up he had been given report after report after report to read and study. The old island nation had read on both of the candidates and there were plans according to whatever the American populous decided.   
Still it was a bloody amount of paper work that had been put on his plate. As such he felt a bit of agitation towards said former colony. Why couldn't he have a king or hold elections further apart, buggar! Everyone was waiting for the decision to be made. Russia was particularly on edge as of late waiting for the decision. He sighed pulling himself from his thoughts and back to the phone conversation,   
"Did you need something?"

"Need something? Can't I just call an old friend during a time of turbulence? Is that so much to ask? I mean, I won't even ask you if you think I should increase taxes to alleviate the HUGE hole in my wallet. Or maybe I should fill that hole by eliminating programs, like food stamps, but then I'd have a hole in my stomach too. But don't worry Arty, I won't ask you about any of that. Because I can TOTALLY make up my mind all on my own! HAHAHA!"

As maniacal laughter erupted from his phone Britain found himself quickly pulling the phone away from his ear. He stared at the black phone in his hand and rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten all about this. How had he forgotten? That was unclear. The workload must have gotten to him.   
"America..." he said in an exasperated tone. The git was having his 4 year PMS. Britain thought to himself, ”Are you all right?"

"Totally A-OK. Except sometimes I want to murder Mexico. And other times I want to make sweet love to her. I'm really confused about that actually. But I think it's OK, because sometimes she gives me pot, and then I settle right down."

Britain raised his hand to the bridge of his nose and tried to massage out the tension there. His thick eyebrows were furrowing.   
"You’re not on pot right now, are you?" He put the document he’d been working with back on his desk. He leaned back in his desk chair. Britain’s full attention turned to his former colony.  
America didn't need anything else in his system. He already sounded like a raving loon. He looked at his desk calendar. There was only a short time until the election. If he recalled this would keep getting worse.   
"Have you been taking care of yourself, Alfred?" There was something the aggravating twit had never been able to do very well, "When's the last time you slept?"

"Slept? Dude, you should know I have no time for that right now. My boss has got me running ragged for this election. I'm campaigning for both sides you know. Here in America, we throw endless parties as an excuse to fund raise and milk every dime we can from all the rich campaign backers. The foods awesome though. I just kinda wish everyone would stop fighting..." A heavy sigh came from the other end of the line. "Parties are a lot more fun when it doesn't end with the cops being called."

"Listen. You get strung out like this every four years. You should know by now that you have to take it easy during this time. You have been independent for 227 years now. You have had more than one election. You should have learned how to take care of yourself in all that time! Take it easy around election days. Call in sick and relax at home before you exhaust yourself."   
Blimey, is he really that young? Britain had to remind himself. Just saying that out loud made Britain feel like some ancient dinosaur.   
Then Britain had to think to himself, was he lecturing the young chap? True, he loved to lecture the young country in every topic from his independence to his rancid food, but PMS America really was not one to be lectured. Britain knew that as well. He's having a mid-election crisis and you have to rant, but I cannot think of one supportive thing to say. Buggar. Maybe that was poor parenting on his part. Then it hit him,   
"When is the last time you ate? McDonald's is open all night, right? Go get one of those retched burgers you love so much! It will take your mind off of this election. Get one of those ice cream concoctions as well."

"Oooo! That's a great idea! All the fast food chains here are getting all their holiday flavors out! If I head to Starbucks, I can choose between all the fall flavors, like pumpkin, OR I could get the Christmas flavors, like peppermint! Oh my God! I could mix the two drinks together and have peppermint pumpkin!"  
But despite the excitement America was portraying, eating was never something he neglected. He ate when he was happy, sad, partying, or watching a football game. And during elections, a lot of eating occurred during arguments. In fact, a lot of groups of friends or even families would go out to dinner with the intention of having a good time and instead end up fighting with one another over their beliefs and viewpoints of the different candidates.   
But America hadn't called Britain to get even more depressed or wound up over things. He'd called to let off steam. So it made more sense to just pretend that things were a little better off than they were.   
It was true he'd been through lots of elections before, this would be his 56th, but he never saw a way of making it any easier. People got worked up every single time. As a result, he himself got worked up too. It was very stressful, especially not knowing who his new boss would be or really what to believe. There were always a lot of important topics and decisions to make about the direction he'd be heading in the future. All the same, he always reminded himself, each and every time that if things didn't work out, he'd have a new boss in another 4 years anyway. But...things did always seem ok after the first week of November. He'd just have to stick it out, like a cold.  
There's no way I'll be able to rest like Britain, he thought. The people are too wound-up over here. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to sleep. But there was no way he'd be telling Britain that.  
"Dude, I'm going to go do just that. A burger'll fix me right up!" He said. And then, before Arthur could object, he hung up. 

Britain's chance to retort was cut short when America hung up the phone. The ring tone cut through the silent office, and the sound reminded Britain that his former colony was off, high strung, PMSing, raving mad, and... loose in the general population.   
True America had never gotten into any real trouble, but Britain found himself worrying. The last thing he needed was a late night call that the young man had gotten into some bar fight over political view points with one of his crazy citizens overusing their first amendment rights or something. America could get carried away at times.   
Britain placed the phone back in its cradle and placed his elbows on the desk. Bloody hell. America was loose upon the world. Britain probably should have encouraged the youth to stay at home until his emotions came back under control. Britain's eyes widened in horror when he thought of the PMSing nation driving to the McDonald's. By God! What if he took his motorcycle and crashed it from sleep deprivation?  
Arthur reached out snagging the phone back up. This just wouldn't do at all.

Luckily for Alfred, he didn’t need to head to another rally for several days. Which was great, because he was still feeling very confused. During one moment, he was a gun toting, boarder protecting republican, then for the next, he was an entitlement program and gay rights activist democrat.   
Oh my God! I won’t be able to make up my mind until the people elect someone! GRAH!!! I’m going crazy!!! Deciding it would be best to get outside and get some fresh air after all, America raced out of the white house before he was expected to do anymore campaigning. It was just impossible to expect a country to make up his mind when the population was so divided!   
I’ll just head to a nice, normal place. One that doesn’t support or oppose any of the hot button topics that have been flying around these days. Of course, that eliminated half of the fast food chains and restaurants around. Even companies had something to say about politics in the modern age. It was actually, rather ridiculous.   
“Wait! I know a place that’s neutral! Bars!” That was right. Following all the political propaganda and smear ads that were all over TV, were a third type of ad supporting alcohol as a substitution to picking either side. Alfred wasn’t a total moron (even if he could act it sometimes) he knew that picking an alcoholic beverage over a candidate was just idiotic, but the ads had an underlying message that spoke to a lot of Americans who were simply sick of all the disagreements.   
Arthur’s right, I just need to relax for a little while. Maybe shoot some pool. And so, Alfred headed straight to the nearest local bar with a pool hall. 

Britain had managed to work a few more minutes, but eventually Britain had phoned Canada. His gut was nagging at him. He wanted someone to watch Alfred, and help take his mind off of the election. Since he lived across the Atlantic it would take hours for him to get to America. It really was not plausible, considering the amount of work he had. He could not blow off so much work just on a whim. He was a nation. He was still cleaning up foreign affairs and dealing with the media and the possible pregnancy of the new princess there was too much work to do here. He couldn't go. Not unless Alfred got into serious trouble.  
Besides, he reassured himself. Its not the first time Matthew has watched his older brother during a tumultuous time. Matthew had helped Alfred through a civil war (which Britain was ashamed to admit he had helped prolong and had not once visited the boy during despite how sick he'd been), a great depression (he had been there for that one, but it was hard to visit or stay long because of America's policies at the time), and two national crisis's (he hadn't been able to get to America's side for pearl harbor because of the war and his own countries issues, but he had come immediately to help for Sept. 11). Matthew was always the first one at his brother's side because they were in driving distance of each other.  
Briatin was starting to feel a bit depressed. Maybe he should visit the young whippersnapper. He wrapped the desk phone cord around his finger as he dialed. He had been told more than once to update the old, archaic device, but he liked this phone. Damn. Why is it taking so long for Matthew to pick up?  
Matthew's voice finally answered, but Britain recognized the quiet recording, "You've reached Matthew Willams. Sorry I'm not here right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back soon. Papa. S'il vous plaît arrêter de me dire qui je dois ce jour." Beep (Papa. Please stop suggesting to me who I should date.)  
Double damn. Britain slammed the phone down. He pushed his thoughts aside and went back to work. America will be fine.

~Meanwhile~

The people were gathered in the bar. Many of them trying to escape the craziness of the outside world. Bikers lined stools and smoke filled the room. Groups played pool. The TV blared useless information that no one paid attention to. A few people turned when the 19 year old walked in. They were surprised to see a 'kid' in the bar.

America kicked in the door of the local bar (not to be destructive mind you, but to be dramatic!) And being who he was, he was well-known by a lot of American’s, although not all of them. Almost right away he was greeted by several people.   
“Hey kid! How’s the election trail treating ya?” Spoke up a young man by the bar.   
“I dunno Dan, he don’t look too good to me?”  
“You tired Alfred?” America moved further inside, heading to the group of young men by the bar. The tender was wiping up a small spill down near the other end, but lifted his eyes as Alfred approached. Almost immediately America smiled, after all, was there ever a time when he wasn’t smiling?  
“I’m just fine guys! Nothing a drink and a game of pool won’t fix. How about it? Who’s up for some fun?”  
“Alfred,” the bar tender frowned. “I’ve told you before, you’re too young to drink.”  
“Eh? Has that stopped me before?” The bar tender placed a glass down on the counter a bit more harshly than necessary, his thick eyebrows lowering.   
“If I catch you sneaking drinks I’ll have you arrested this time. I’m sick of your games. Now, how would that affect the elections huh? Some bad publicity?”  
“Dude!” Alfred raised his hands, waving defensively. “Chill out man. I came here to unwind.”  
“Bar tender,” one of the men said. “Give the kid a break. He’s under a lot more stress than you or me. He’s technically not allowed to even pick a side. And then when the elections over, he pretty much just has to agree with the new president, regardless.”  
“Cry me a river,” the bar tender grumbled. “I don’t care what he’s going through he ain’t getting a drink in MY bar.”   
“Ok, ok, sheesh. Can I at least shoot some pool? Is that illegal too?”   
“No. But I can think of some other things that should be illegal but aren’t. Why aren’t you doing more in Washington about gun control Alfred? Hm? My little girl was gunned down in a broad daylight!”  
Alfred felt his heart kick into high gear. This was the exact thing he’d been trying to avoid. Everyone had a personal stake in one matter or another, and a touchy subject like gun control was not what he had in mind when he stepped into the bar.  
“Watch it bar tender!” One of the men sitting in the stools said, a sour look over coming his face. “If we were allowed to have more guns, maybe someone would have shot that killer before he could hurt someone.”   
The bar tender’s eyes bulged in disbelief.  
“What did you say?”   
“You heard me!”  
“Alfred! You hear this guy? You represent our great country! You set this asshole straight!”  
“Well that’s too bad, because Alfred’s on my side! Aren’t you kid?” Now everyone in the bar was staring, and poor Alfred’s feet had gone cold. Breaking out into a sweat he struggled to maintain some sort of balance. Swallowing harshly, he looked around at all the faces around him. Then his eyes turned to the open beer that one of the men left carelessly on the bar top. Without even a seconds hesitation he dove for it.  
“I choose the fifth!” He cried then grabbed up the freshly opened can and just began guzzling it down.  
“HEY!”  
“That was my beer you son of a bitch!”  
“I told you not to drink in MY bar!” Alfred may not have been as good of a drinker as say Germany or Prussia, but he was decent enough. He finished the beer just before its owners fist punched it right out of his hand. Rather calmly, and not really reacting to the angry faces around him he let out a snort.  
“I guess I need another please.”  
“You’re dead meat Alfred.”

Suddenly, there was exciting clapping from the doorway of the bar, “Kekekeke! Ze awesome me has to zee this! Birdie! Please! Can we watch? He will get his ass kicked!” A certain albino had a gleam in his red eyes as he strolled into the bar with his friend. “Then we can go find a real bar! We can go back to mine bruder’s place!”  
Britain had called Canada’s phone so many times in the last few hours he was sure the satellites in space were still trying to play catch up. The island nation had bugged him so much about his brother that Canada had turned his phone off some time ago after he'd assured Britain that he would find Alfred. Luckily, Canada had a sixth sense when it came to America. Canada had never had a hard time locating his brother. Probably because even though they were different, they were still connected and close. It must have been part of being a twin or something like that or maybe geography?  
Canada studied Alfred up and down. Other than seeming a bit confused, he looked ok. At least Canada had made it before any fighting broke out in the bar.  
Matthew had really let time get away with him the last few days. He usually tried to keep a closer eye on his brother during election time. Canada had been so busy with work, and a surprise visit from a certain Prussian had completely blown any thought of America’s election right out of his mind.   
Luckily people in the bar were distracted from pummeling Alfred by the arrival of the two new nations. It was Prussia who was attracting the attention of the bar. He was an albino after all so he did look different. Not to mention the former nation had a specific aura about him that no one could miss.  
“Ke? Let’s go back to my bruder’s place, birdie! America can get drinks there with ze awesome me!” He looked back at America with a cocky grin on his face, “You canz have real beer zere. Not this unawesome stuff here!”  
Matthew shot a sideways frown at Prussia,   
“Can you please stop calling me Birdie!” It was a familiar request. He’d been asking Prussia that question for the past two days so he wouldn't be surprised when Prussia kept using the ridiculous nickname.  
He quickly turned his attention back to his brother. Matthew walked through the bar and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Then he looked around the bar at all the angry people occupying the area.   
“Al…. Let’s go back to your house.” He said in his quiet tone. He didn’t want to be caught in a bar fight. This was ridiculous. “I can pay for whatever he drank. In fact I can buy everyone a drink if everyone can settle down. I’ll take my brother home.” The soft spoken nation didn’t seem like a threat at all and luckily the people of the bar seemed appeased.  
“Oh! The awesome me loves that idea, Birdie! Beer is almost as awezome as me! Even if zis American stuff is for Schwächlinge (weaklings).” Prussia happily responded to Matthew’s offer by heading to the bar for a drink. Matthew rolled his eyes as his friend sat down at the bar,   
“Gilbert! Are you going to walk to Alfred’s house? We have to go. You can drink later.” That got a frown on the albino’s face, “Totally unawesome, birdie!” He got up and went to walk back towards the North America brothers. Prussia stared at America with a firm frown, "How'z it going, loser? Your daddy called uz to come get you."

Alfred was pretty glad to see Canada, he could definitely use some company, but was fairly UN-glad to see Prussia. And due to all the stress he’d been under the UN-gladness completely outweighed the glad…gladness. Immediately woes about gun control, abortion, gay rights, and the Mexican border disappeared as he laid his blue eyes on the albino invader. Immediately, Alfred marched away from the bar and instead toward Gilbert.  
“Dude…what the hell is this trash doing on MY soil!?” He demanded. He whipped his glare around to Matt, eyes gleaming. “Did you bring him hear?” But before Matt had a chance to answer, he was already facing Prussia once more. “What was that about American beer? That sounded like a challenge to me, and I don’t back down from challenges, no matter how ridiculous they may be! You wanna go? How about a drinking contest, man?”  
“Alfred!” The bar tender suddenly hollered. “How many times do I got to tell you, you’re 19! You’re going to get me arrested!” America, of course, completely ignored the man. He was wound up from stress, and he needed a release somewhere. If he couldn’t get a drink or play pool, well, then a fight wasn’t sounding so bad, especially if he got to sock Prussia one right in the face.  
“I’m NOT in the mood Gil! I’m this close to saying to HELL with diplomacy! I know you think you’re awesome, but America is even MORE awesome! And if you want to tango, well…I’ve got a republican in me that’s just itching to come out!” America was looking just a tad unhinged at that point, and it became evident, even to Prussia that perhaps the stress was finally getting to him. His right eye started twitching. 

The Teutonic knight in Prussia was always ready for a fight. The albino had never been one to back down, ever. His pride wouldn’t allow a challenge to go unanswered. Especially when beer was involved,   
“Ze awzome me willz take you anytime, kid! You seem to be too little to drinkz in your home. Why not come to mine home? I’ll show you real beer!” He let out one of his unique laughs and jibed, “I was drinking beer before you were a thought! I will take Canada’s bruder anytime!” He let out a short laugh. Prussia smirked as his red eyes narrowed in anticipation of Alfred’s response.   
Off behind Alfred, Matthew could tell this conversation was going downhill fast. He wasn’t particularly pleased with either Prussia or America at the moment, but he was trying not to be upset with his brother. Alfred always had ‘issues’ around election days, and, of course, America would be shocked at finding Prussia in his homeland. The two of them were far from friends.   
And then there was another small matter…. Matthew had yet to tell any of his family members that he was pretty good friends with the former nation. He had met Prussia at one of the world meetings a while ago.   
Matthew also hadn’t told his family that for the past year Prussia routinely showed up at his home in Ottawa demanding homemade pancakes and maple syrup. He also hadn’t mentioned that Prussia would stay in the guest room for days on end.... Nope, especially didn’t tell them that. So of course finding Prussia standing in a bar on his home soil would be strange for Alfred. Matthew had tried to get Gilbert to leave for Germany at the beginning of this debacle, but Gilbert had refused. Being in a rush Canada had just brought him along.  
Matthew was also concerned about another thing in this situation. Matthew didn’t need his overprotective brother meddling in his foreign affairs or worse trying to protect him in this matter. An overprotective America was an unhinged America, and he knew that Alfred would be worried sick if he found out his calm, gentle, and subservient 'little' brother had Prussia of all nations staying at his house about... how often was it? At least once a month? Alfred tended to forget that Canada could handle himself.  
Matthew knew most every nation found Prussia loud mouthed, agitating, mean, at times unstable, and other times downright dangerous. Prussia didn’t have the best history after all. How many times had the former nation ‘invaded a nations private regions?’ Isn’t that what papa France said at one of the former world meetings?   
Yeah. Matthew thought to himself, How do you break that to your over protective brother? The self proclaimed hero would have a hissy fit. Hey Alfred, you know what they say about Prussia, eh? We’re really good friends now! He’s staying at my place!   
It wasn’t only Alfred though. He hadn’t told Britain or France about Prussia either. The rest of the world also found Canada quiet, meek, invisible, and they had mostly seemed to have forgotten that he was able to fight and protect himself if he needed to. He could fight. He just didn’t find the need to fight all that often. Hell the rest of the world routinely forgot he existed, but the loud, foul mouthed albino never had. He’d also never confused Canada with America. That was something that even Matthew’s two fathers messed up sometimes.  
Matthew was worried that his family would misconstrue his friendship with Prussia. He could easily see his family accusing the Albino of bullying him into something, and that was far from the true circumstances. If Britain, America, and France thought Prussia was giving him grief then that could spell trouble for Germany too. Not wanting to deal with the fall out, Matthew had kept the friendship to himself.  
Now Prussia was here. So how could he make this work to his favor? He was in the middle of thinking out a plan when Prussia opened his mouth.  
Gilbert was completely unaware that Canada was hiding their friendship from America. As such Gilbert blurted out, “Ze awezome me does not want to be here, wiz the unawsome you! I should be at your Bruder’s house having mine way. The awesome me likes Birdie’s house. I would be making Birdie cook pancakes!! If it werez not for you, kid!!” Prussia crossed his arms over his chest in huff.   
Well… there went that cover. Matthew’s eyes rolled. Gilbert couldn’t have phrased that sentence and made it sound any worse than it did. I just had my Canadian slave make me pancakes, and I get my way at his home. Matthew’s anger flared,   
“DAMNIT GILBERT!” Even at a full scream Matthew’s voice was still small and barely carried through the bar.

At first, for a few seconds it seemed, America didn’t move. He stood in something close to shock. “You…h…having your way?” His face tensed, a quick snarl came over his lips. His fingers curled. But despite that, for a brief moment, it looked like he was actually trying to control himself. Glancing to the side, he concentrated on his breathing. And for just a second it appeared as if he were rationalizing with himself. But then, out of nowhere…  
CRACK! His fist flew forward in a nice right hook, his knuckles digging into the pale countries skin. And of course, as soon as that first punch was thrown, the gloves were off. The bar patrons erupted into cheers as a quick crowd gathered around, and before they could even fully assemble, America had rushed forward again, grabbing onto Prussia’s collar, dragging him in close to his infuriated face.   
(Enter Republican mode. The Battle Hymn of the Republic starts to play in the background. The American flag waves for Albert’s speech!)  
“You son of a bitch! Matt’s my little bro! And if you think I’ll just stand by and let you take advantage of him, well then think again! You’re nothing! You don’t even fucking exist! You’re a dead country man! And I don’t think I’ll have any trouble defeating a country that’s already been defeated! You’re nothing! You’re a ghost! And NOBODY messes with America’s friends! NOBODY! You poked a bear dude! And I don’t need to hold back fighting you, because there’s not even a risk of starting up a war! Because you’re already a dead nation! Asshole!”  
Having completely lost it, America was clearly ready to go all out. He brought back his fist a second time, preparing for another well placed boxing punch. Being the number one boxer out of all the countries in the world (and it’s not even a close call) America was more than prepared for some skin. 

Prussia was dazed from the right hook, but he had been fighting wars long before America. He’d dealt with wins, loses, occupation, and pain far worse than a right hook. He spit out the influx of blood in his mouth onto the bar floor. He’d also been brawling in bars long before the stupid kid in front of him. He pulled his knees up to slam into America then kicked out harshly to push himself free.  
“Bring itz on unawesome!!” Prussia snarled as he took a stance in the bar.  
“Gilbert! I swear if you fight him I will never, NEVER make you ANYTHING! Ever EVER!!” Matthew tried to defuse the tense situation.  
“Sorry Birdie!” Prussia smirked, “He started it! Dur Bruder asked for this!”  
“ Merde!” (Damn it) Canada cried out again. How had things fallen apart so fast!? Alfred was about to kill.   
Prussia turned his attention from America and was reaching out to grab a glass bottle off of a nearby table.   
This was going to hell in a hand basket! Damn!   
Canada rushed forward and stepped in front of his advancing, crazed brother planting his feet firmly on the floor. He wasn’t going to be budged. He reached out grabbing onto America’s shoulders with intensity. He stared into his brother’s blue eyes with eyes that were nearly identical and quietly demanded,   
“Alfred. Stop!” Which might have worked…if a glass bottle hadn’t come crashing down on Matthew’s skull at just about the same time. Prussia’s eyes widened having realized his mistake too late.   
“BIRDIE!” Prussia cried as his friend went crashing to the floor. The overzealous Prussian hadn’t been paying attention and had struck out at what he assumed would be the advancing America.

America probably would have stopped to listen to his brother. If anyone could stop America, it was Canada.   
“Matt, what’re you…” But then, glass came down, shattering. America watched in horror as his little brother’s eyes rolled back in his skull. He wobbled once and then collapsed with a thud at America’s feet.   
“MATT!” Alfred quickly fell to his knees beside him, worry stamped across his face. Reaching out he shook him harshly. “Matt! Matt!” But of course, he didn’t stir. Canada was out cold. With a well placed hit like that, it was no wonder.  
America sat with his twin for just a few seconds. His arms began to tremble as he fell silent. The trembling spread through his body as anger began to build. A fire bloomed within. A few seconds more and he was seething, unable to contain his fury. Lifting his head, he glared hatefully Prussia’s way.  
“You son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!” Gently, he lay his younger brother on the floor, then rose to his feet. Stepping over him, he lifted his fists. The bar patrons whooping and hollering, they cheered him on.  
“Get em Alfred!”  
“That counties no match for America!”  
“Republicans and Democrats can both agree on that!”   
America was never a very good listener to begin with, and at this point, he was way past the point of listening to anyone. He lunged, cracking knuckles into more flesh. He was fully ready to beat Prussia into unconsciousness. 

Prussia was wide eyed as he stared at the down Canadian.   
“Ma-Matthew!” He let the rest of the shattered bottle fall out of his hand. He hadn’t meant to whack his friend on the noggin.  
“Wa-wait!” He raised his hands up in defense. He had lost the urge to fight, and wanted to aide his friend, “Your bruder needz ice! I needz to get ‘em ice!”  
He kept his arms up to protect himself, “America! Listen!” Of course that wasn’t going to work. So unable to reason with the enraged America, Prussia prepared to fight or more so defend himself from the onslaught.

America wasn’t about to let up. He’d been pushed and pushed and pushed even before Prussia arrived and started insulting him. And now, he was passed the point of no return. Over stressed, over tired, and having been deeply insulted was more than enough, but seeing Canada hurt was the last straw.   
“Bastard! Ass!” He continued to pummel him, one fist over the other, backing him up against the wall. Reaching out, he grabbed him by his collar. Much, much stronger than he appeared, he hoisted him up into the air with ease. Breathing heavily, and breaking out into a sweat, he glared at him.   
“What were you doing with my little bro? What was that crack about getting your way? HMM?!? Did you TOUCH my bro?!? I’ll fucking kill you!!!”   
Already breathing heavily and sweating profusely, his face gradually started to grow pale. The hands he used to grip Prussia, already trembling from rage, began to tremble a bit more. His breath quickened, and he started to appear a bit clammy.   
“Get ‘em Alfred!”  
“Show that jerk the strength of America!!!”

Prussia’s red eye twitched at the question. It was neither a declaration of having done something or a statement of innocence. Maybe, it was intent of something he wanted.  
Either way the question went unanswered. Prussia reached up grabbing onto Alfred’s hands trying to relieve the pressure he was feeling on his collar. His face was bloodied, but he was nowhere near giving in. He’d had plenty worse than this.  
Then Prussian felt a smirk engulf his face, and a large toothy grin appeared on his bloodied, pale features. Prussia knew the North America twins fought over who was older. He had heard Canada complain about it on more than one occasion, but nonetheless a bruder was a bruder. Prussia had raised Germany from a young child. Now he lived in his house. Caring for a brother was something Prussia could relate with the American on. As such he didn’t want America to worry about his brother’s safety, “Ze awezome me iz awezome friends wid birdie. Dine bruder is fine.”

America gripped Prussia a bit more firmly, but not because he was any more angry than before. In fact, his grip increased because he was suddenly feeling weaker, and he didn’t want to lose his hold on Prussia, not after what he’d just said. After hearing something like that, America needed to look him in the eye and size him up.   
“Friends?” He questioned. He didn’t want to believe him because he was so wrapped up in his anger, but…he couldn’t help but to remember Matt’s face right before he was knocked out. He’d been trying to stop him. He’d been concerned. That…and even the awful Prussia had seemed upset that he’d accidentally hit Matt instead of America.  
“That thing…about pancakes…”   
A slight headache started to build up behind his eyes, a gentle throbbing making itself known. But there was no way he was going to appear weak in front of an enemy. Not until he cleared up this whole thing about Prussia and Matt.   
“Matt DID seem like he didn’t want me to fight you…even though you’re a giant ass face.” Prussia suddenly started to feel a lot heavier. Afraid of dropping him, and his arms starting to shake, America decided to release him. Putting him down, his chest suddenly started to feel tight.   
Weird…what happened to my usually freakishly strong strength? He thought to himself. The fight now winding down, it was odd that America was only seeming to sweat more, his face paling further.  
“Dude’s…is it hot in here?” 

“Ze awezome me iz fine.” Standing on his feet again Prussia looked around America to his unconscious friend on the floor. “…Crap…” He said under his breath. He’d never hear the end of this. “I hopez he waz lying about ze pancakes. He makez them best. With ze maple syrup stuff….” Prussia looked around the bar, “I needz ice.” Physical injuries healed quicker with nations than normal humans. Only things directly affecting their country could really keep them down or took long periods of time to heal, but being a ‘human’ pain or a ‘nation’ pain ice would help either way. Prussia blew by America’s side. He kept his distance so America couldn’t stop him. Then he knelt down and gently shook Matthew’s shoulder,   
“Birdie. Zorry.” Of course the unconscious Canadian didn’t stir, but it was the apology that counted. Right? So there it was.  
“Hmmm.” Prussia looked back up at America, “Unawesome. We canz take him to your place, right? I can help…. Unawesome?” That’s when Prussia realized what America actually looked like at the moment. He looked ill. He was sweating and pale and was he jittery? No. He was shaking. What was wrong with the super power?  
Prussia looked down at his unconscious friend on the floor. Truly he didn’t have many friends left. France. Spain. Germany....Italy. At times they tended to forget him as well. No one bothered with him anymore. Nations didn’t seem to care about those who had long since fallen from grace. He had taken an interest in the quiet Northern country because Canada seemed genuinely interested in him even if he was no longer a country. He felt wholeness when he was with Matthew. He hadn’t felt in a long time. So he held his friendship with Canada in high regard. Whenever he felt himself getting down he’d fly to Canada’s house for company and the pancakes didn’t hurt. He’d been making the trip more and more often, as of late.   
He was the one who had knocked Matthew out. Matthew had come all this way to take care of his bruder. The least he could do was to make sure America was ok in his absence. He turned his red eyes back to America, “Whatz wrong? You don’t look zo good. Maybe I should use Birdie’s car to take you both home. Is da beer getting to you, kid?” Truly he had not meant to be insulting with the last line.

“I don’t feel as amazing as usual…” America finally admitted. “Is something going on?” Of course, everyone in the bar knew what the problem probably was. One of the men gestured to the bar television which currently had the news on.  
“Hurricane Sandy, kid. Did you forget? We’ve been preparing for it for over a week. It made landfall in Jersey and is heading up to New York City.” Alfred let out a groan of dismay. Of course he had known all about it too. It was one of the biggest news stories other than the election at the moment. But with all the heat he’d been under, he’d briefly forgotten.  
“Crap.” He let out a long heavy sigh. Every country knew what a hurricane meant. Natural disasters were something most of them dealt with from time to time. Some were far worse than others. At least with hurricanes a lot of the time people could prepare, because it was well known that it was coming. It was far better to have a hurricane than say a major earthquake or mudslide, or God forbid…a volcano.   
“I almost totally forgot, the boss gave me the next few days off from campaigning because of Sandy. I was so eager to get out and blow off steam that I forgot…” Hurricanes seemed to manifest themselves as a cold or illness: a gradual onset, and lasting several days. But it was never anything too traumatic…with exception of a few really big, bad ones. America shuddered for a moment in recalling Katrina.   
“Sorry for beating you snotless Gil. Even though you DID deserve it…butt face.” Glancing at Matt, sweat starting to roll down his skin, he thought that the first best thing was to take care of his little brother. “I guess I can take you up on your offer. We need to take care of Matt…” But even as he was speaking, it was clear his illness was getting worse. His golden eyebrows creased together as his headache started to get far worse. It throbbed and pounded behind his eyes. “Ugh…” For a brief second, the world swam. He stumbled once, but then caught himself. Stretching out a hand, he leaned on the nearest table. Suddenly embarrassed more than anything else, he glared Prussia’s way.  
“I could still kick your ass, ghost nation!” 

Prussia let America’s comments go. He could always get him back later.   
“Ok. I can get Birdie. You got urzelf?” Prussia looked the unconscious Canadian over. Canada was wearing his normal, long brown jacket. Prussia had no shame diving through Canada’s pockets for the car keys. It seemed he might have done this before because he went straight to the pocket where the Canadian kept his keys. Quickly he let the metal ring slide onto his pointer finger and held it up for America to see,   
“Same place as ze last time. We canz go.”  
He carefully slid his arms beneath Canada’s neck and the bend in Canada’s knees. With a bit of concentration he lifted the unconscious Northern brother up off the floor. He held him carefully trying to keep his head from moving around much. Then he made a note of something else,   
“Geeze Birdie. You weigh less than last time.” Prussia sighed. When Prussia looked back at America he could tell the other brother was more than a bit curious about what he had just said. So as he walked up to America he quickly added, “I took him out drinking at mine place. It waz awezome! Germany was there and Italy fed us pasta. Canada didn’t handle the alcohol so well…. I had to drive him home in ze rental car. He didn’t tell you? He waz hungover foreverz. It was so unawezome.”  
Prussia frowned. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that Canada had kept America completely in the dark about how often they’d been seeing each other. He was the awesome Prussia, damn it! Not some unawezome secret to be hidden away. Obviously this was something they’d need to talk about when Canada woke up.   
“Can you make it America or do I needz to come back? Kumajiro is in the car. Ztupid bear. He’ll probably bite me again now that Birdie is out.” The red eyed Prussian shuddered a bit. He did not like that bear.

“I can make it to the car myself, thanks…” Alfred grumbled, feeling a bit pissy. He certainly didn’t want any help from Prussia, even if he did need the help. But more than that was this entire relationship revelation. Why would Matt keep all this a secret? And why would he want to be friend with Prussia of all countries? And how long had this been going on? And were the two of them really just friends? The way Prussia was acting made him think…something that was often times very difficult for America to do.   
Instead of saying something right away, Alfred concentrated on following Prussia out to the car. He already missed his usual endless amounts of energy. Instead of bounding out of the bar, unstoppable and a stupid grin on his face, he found himself unsteady and weak. Sweat dripped from his jaw line, but oddly enough despite a growing fever…he was starting to feel cold.   
Crap. This is already worse than an average hurricane… Once outside, America spotted Canada’s usual car, an American made car, because Canada had yet to create even a single car company for itself. It was a small four door and seeing Kumajiro and luggage in the backseat meant all three men would need to cram into the front.  
Alfred headed to the passenger’s side, already knowing he wouldn’t be able to drive, which sucked, because man, he LOVED driving. He loved cars. Fast cars. Sports cars. Red cars. And as always a good Mustang! But of course, Canada’s car wasn’t all that exciting anyway. It was something a mom might buy. Grabbing the door handle, Alfred found that his grip was already severely weakened. He managed to open the door, but not without some effort. Slipping in and sitting down, he quickly pulled his jacket in more tightly around his body and zipped it completely up. Shivering, his face white and his eyes red, he glanced to Prussia and held out his arms for Matt.  
“Give ‘im to me. I’ll hold him while your drive.” 

“Zu look like hell, America.” There were a thousand insults running through the Prussian’s mind, but somehow he found restraint and didn’t utter one. Canada’s made me soft! The Prussian thought in horror. He transferred the Northern twin over to the Southern twin and closed the car door.  
Once in on the other side he jammed the car keys into the ignition when a curious bear poked his head in between the driver and passenger seat. First looking at his master who he tended to forget at times, sniffing America, and then growling at the Prussian before settling in the back seat.  
“Stupid lunatic bear.” Prussia grumbled under his breath. Then a huge grin came over his face, “I luv ze driving!” Gilbert slammed his foot onto the gas and away the car flew. The speed flung America back into his seat.   
What the unconscious Canadian couldn’t tell his brother was that he did not trust Prussia to drive ever again. Ever. Once had been bad enough. There was one main reason for the driving restriction. One: Prussia suffered a severe case of road rage. Two: was that some roads in Germany didn’t have speed limits. Prussia seemed to only accept the untrue fact that all roads had no speed limit. So the albino flew through a 35mph residential area somewhere along the speed of 90mph.   
“What is this mph!? Iz zo unawezome! Itz kph!” He said as he made a sharp turn. “So America where iz ur home? Your bruder did not tell me.”

Poor Alfred had already been through so much, now he was suffering a minor heart attack on top of it all. His organs shot down to his back and guts as the speed of the drive startled him. Reaching out, he grabbed a hold of the “oh shit” handle, his other hand gripping his little bro to make sure he wasn’t flung into the back with his bear.   
“For God’s sake slow the fuck down you extinct dinosaur!” Already having trouble breathing, this little episode simply made it worse. He started to wheeze, audibly so.  
“The speed limit here’s 35 bro! We do that for a reason! You’re gunna get caught by the cops!” And speak of the devil, some blue and white lights suddenly started to flash behind them. A siren wailed.  
“Crap! Crappity crap crap!”

Prussia laughed in a lunatic way, “Kekeke! Don’t worry Amerika! I canz handle thiz.”  
“Oh my head…” The Canadian groaned in his brother’s lap. He raised his hand to his aching head. He opened his eyes a small slit, and then they widened with horror when he realized that his car was in motion. His eyes widened further still when he realized he was in his brother’s lap, and he could hear Prussia laughing from the driver’s seat.  
“OH MY GOD!” Canada cried in quiet horror, “Gilbert! Pull the car over!” He could feel the speed of the car, and it was terrifying. Canada looked up at his brother, “Al!” He reached up putting his hand firmly on his ailing brother’s shoulder.  
“Oh Birdie! Yourz awake!” The Prussian cried happily as he swerved the car around another bend.

Immediately, Alfred’s stomach turned along with the car. His pale face became a quick, sickly green.   
“Ugh…ooo…dude…stop the car…” He groaned in misery. Gasping for breath, he was surprised to find that Prussia actually listened…but probably due to Matt’s request other than his. The car swung onto the side of the road, the cop stopped behind them. The officer stepped up to the passenger’s side first and just as he approached the car, Alfred flung open the door, leaned out of it and then he promptly vomited all over the police man’s shoes.   
Feeling quite wretched, he glanced upward once he was done. A very angry officer glared down at him. Alfred chuckled weakly.   
“Good even’n officer.”


	2. Getting Sick Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America is sick, but he has other things to worry about.

Chapter 2  
Getting Sick Sucks!

Needless to say, all three countries ended up in an American jail cell for reckless endangerment (and soiling an officer). But because they were countries, and their crime wasn’t severe, they were simply put in a holding cell together. There were no beds in a holding cell, and during that time America fell incredibly ill. Nothing life threatening, but enough to make his existence quite wretched. Matt had helped lay him down on the cold stone floor, and the prison guard was actually kind enough to offer him a blanket.  
“Britain called, he’s on his way to come get you. You’ll get a proper bed soon,” he said. America didn’t respond. Sweating bullets, he shivered on the floor. He pulled the blanket in tighter around himself. Wheezing heavily, a violent coughing fit suddenly escaped him. Lifting a hand, he instinctively covered his mouth, but even so, it sounded awful. The coughing fit wracked his already weakened body.   
“Ughh…like…I need Arthur…worrying…over a…little hurricane…” 

“Mom’s like that.” Matthew said. He sat on the cold floor and pulled his brother’s head into his lap to make him more comfortable, “You’ll be ok, lil bro.” He patted Alfred on his head comfortingly. He’d done this more than once in his lifetime. “We’ll get you home soon.” Kumajiro came over the North American twins and settled down next to America on the floor.  
Across the jail cell Prussia sat staring at his friend with a sad puppy look on his face. Every time he tried to say something Canada would glare daggers at him. So he had fallen somewhat silent.  
“Britain called me. He was worried about you this morning. He wanted me to keep an eye on you until he got here. I’m sorry Alfred. I should have come sooner. I just lost track of time because somebody side tracked me.” Canada said the last line with a bit of anger in his voice.   
“Birdie. I didnz know it waz a bad time. You didnz zay…” Prussia added in, but once again Canada glared at him.

Alfred chuckled a bit, but the laughter turned into another wrack of coughing. Luckily, it didn’t last as long as the initial one.  
“You…you’re the little…bro, bro,” he said. He let his blue eyes flutter closed a bit, just to rest. “New York…is always getting me into trouble, hah.” He concentrated on breathing, which was a bit difficult simply due to the fact that he was so damned cold. “This election…it’s tough this year. People…people are fired up more than usual…” Wincing, he turned his head to the side to cough again, making sure not to cough in Canada’s face, even though it wasn’t something another country could contract. His body tightened for the fit, but then he relaxed again once it was over.   
“Jersey and New York lost power…how’re they gunna keep warm in thirty degree weather?” Sighing he opened his eyes to glance at his twin. “Guess that’s why I’m so cold.” He sighed again. “Stupid Arthur’s gunna freak…”

Canada put his hand on his brother’s forehead, “Your people will make it. We haven’t always had electricity, remember? My people made it through many cold winters without power and so did yours. They’ll be ok. They’re Americans. They’re tuff.”  
As if on cue the khaki wearing, green sweater vest, white button up shirt Britain came to a screeching halt just outside of the holding cell,   
“My God! What the bloody hell has been going on!? I got a call just as I touched down! Alfred! My God! You look horrid! Matthew! Are you ok? Let’s get you two home…” Then his eyes turned distastefully to Prussia. “What the bloody hell is that git doing here!?” Britain’s emerald eyes grew huge when he laid eyes on the albino in the corner of the cell.  
“He was with me when this started.” Canada groaned, “Please can we go. We can talk later. Alfred’s getting worse. We should get him home.”  
Britain stood at the door like a ninny motioning the guard to let the two younger nations out. He could have cared less about Prussia. In fact he hated the albino, but he let it go in favor of getting to his two former colonies. As soon as the door opened he was in the cell fussing,   
“I told you to take care of yourself! You twit! Now look at you! Let’s get you home.” Canada and Britain worked together to help get America off of the floor. He wasn’t a light weight by any means.

He managed to stand up with the help of having one country under each arm, but moving him to an upright position seemed to make breathing a lot more painful. He winced, but was too proud to cry out. Instead, he forced a stupid grin to his face and offered Canada a wink.  
“Damn straight we’re tough,” he said. “It’s just a hurricane. And this is nothing like Katrina. And New Yorkers…are…the toughest of all!” But of course, America said that about a lot of people from a lot of states. He’d said it about Texans, and Georgians, …not Californians though. They were wusses.   
“Normally I’d make fun of your tea Arth, but…I could really…use some…right about now.” Burning up and his face impossibly white, it looked as if he were about to simply collapse. Luckily, his family was there to help him.

“My God. You must be hallucinating.” Britain gasped as he walked with Alfred and Matthew. “Hold yourself together, boy.” Mean while Prussia ran on ahead the car keys jingling in his hand.  
“I still haz birdie’s car keyz!”  
“Give those back!” Canada yelled.  
“Birdie?” Britain gawked at the nickname. Then his eyes grew huge, “I am riding in no car that arse is driving! He’ll kill us all.”  
“You’re not driving, Gilbert! Ever! I already made that clear!” Canada reassured his two family members. “I’ll drive. Arthur you ride in the back with Alfred. Gilbert hold Kumajiro.”  
“Ze BEAR!? Birdie! No!! Totally unawesome!” Prussia cried, but he was cut short when Canada gave him a look. Prussia grumbled and followed orders. A few minutes later they were all piling into Canada’s car for the ride home. Britain sat in the back seat with Alfred’s head in his lap and his legs sprawled out on the seat. Prussia sat in the front seat on edge and Canada drove occasionally glancing back at his brother. The ride home was uneventful. Every now and then Prussia would curse saying the bear had tried to bite him. Soon they were at America’s home and unloading the sick nation.  
“Come on Al. This is nothing.” Canada said as he helped Britain get the ill nation out of the car and to his feet. True Canada had seen his brother in much worse states, but he never liked seeing his brother ill. The new American recession had given America numerous colds over the past few years that Canada had watched his brother suffer through.   
“We’ll get you to bed, lad. I’ll make you some tea. If that’s what you want.” Arthur patted America on the back reassuringly. “You’ll be up and about in no time.”  
Once they got America into bed Britain disappeared downstairs into the kitchen. Prussia had wandered off to the guest room. Canada sat on the bed next to his brother. He kept his hand on the ill nations shoulder for comfort,   
"Even superman has an allergy." He reminded. Matthew knew his brother hated being anything less than in perfect health and Matthew also knew Alfred hated being viewed as anything other than a strong hero. "You'll be back up in a few days. The election will be over, and you will be fine. Maybe you can take a mini vacation."

“You got that right, bro,” he agreed. He loved the idea of a vacation. And American’s were just the super best at vacations. They had Disney Land, and the best beaches out of anyone! And then of course there was Atlantis, and Las Vegas. Although…in recent years, mostly since the recession, a lot of people didn’t get the vacation time they once did. A lot didn’t even get off for major holidays like Christmas.   
Alfred knew his heath hadn’t been the best since 2007, but he also knew it would get better. He was the best country in the world after all. And the strongest! No natural disaster or recession would take him down. God no. It wouldn’t even come close. The only time he could remember ever really being worried was during the civil war, and the great depression. Those were the only two times in his entire history when he just wasn’t sure if he’d make it. And so, colds and illnesses be damned. He knew he’d come back stronger than ever before, the way he always did. Grinning his usual self-confident grin, he lifted a fist into the air from his reclined position.   
“Stars and Stripes forever bro! Rock on!” Coughing again, he lowered his hand. He wondered briefly about his health care system. Until the election was over, no one knew what the hell was going on with it. But that was ok…America knew what to do.  
“Matt…” he croaked in a weak, sad sounding, little voice. “…come closer…” Canada, concerned for his brother and his suddenly seeming weakened state, did indeed lean in a little closer. America looked to him, his face still sweaty and pale.  
“…closer…” he whispered. Matt did as told, leaning in even further still.   
“…closer…” America beckoned. This time, Matt leaned his face just near America’s, eagerly awaiting his urgent message, whatever it may be. America turned his head, very seriously held his brothers gaze. Then he opened his mouth and said:  
“Get me triple cheeseburger with extra mayonnaise. It’s the only way I’ll survive!”   
Canada fell back away from his brother with an exasperated face on. Then he laughed at his brother. He patted his brother on the shoulder and then excused himself to go find the triple cheeseburger.  
It was some time later that Britain came upstairs and sat with Alfred. He looked like he was seriously considering something and then he turned to his sick former colony.   
“I brought you tea, lad. You’ll be up in no time. You don’t have any tea cups Alfred. You should really clean your kitchen as well.” Damn! Lecturing again! Britain thought in agitation. “I took a week off to stay with you. I will be here until then. So I can help you through the election and this hurricane business. I believe your brother is staying as well. Although, I have not figured out why that dead bastard is here. Why did he have business in Canada? Was he there on business for Germany for some reason? Do you know?”   
After 20 questions and no real answers the brooding English gent finally stopped questioning Alfred. He looked huffy and agitated but eventually he let it drop. Thus the days passed and the four nations settled into America’s house.  
Britain took the guest room. Canada took the small guest room. Prussia had the couch. Since Alfred was stuck in bed time passed slowly. Canada and Britain rotated turns with their ailing family member.


	3. Matthew and Gilbert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew and Gilbert are having a hard time keeping their relationship under wraps... or rather Gilbert is having a hard time keeping his mouth closed.

Chapter 3  
Matthew and Gilbert

 

Alfred was seriously ill for a few days. But they all kept a close eye on the news to know when things would take a turn for the better. Finally, the storm passed, but the aftermath of it was fairly horrific. 90% of Long Island had no power, and many families had lost their homes. The shelters were packed full of people who had no other way to stay warm, and the food pantries were empty.   
New York City had completely shut down due to flooding. The subway system was underwater, along with the tunnels that lead out of the city. No one went to work. And because the streets were shut down, with trees, water and electrical lines in the way…the gas deliveries weren’t getting through to the gas stations. The people began rioting.  
Alfred remained ill even after the storm passed because of it all.   
“Stop fighting over gas you morons!” He once shouted at the TV screen. But finally, finally, after ten days or so, people began to gradually get their power back. With the water receding, the trains were finally operational again. A few gas deliveries were made although people were still in a shortage, but the worst was over.  
And best of all, because Alfred was so sick during that time, he wasn’t made to do any more work for the elections. Election day came and went all the same, even though a lot of people in New York had to be transferred to different voting locations than usual due to the power outages. Some people even used the old paper ballots instead of computers! And so, the president was decided upon and by the time he recovered almost all of his woes were over. For the time being. There was still the ever present threat of falling off the fiscal cliff…but America was getting used to having tremendous financial problems, so it wasn’t anything new, and he did what he always did with it…completely ignore it.  
And so, one day, feeling waaay better, but still not quite a hundred percent, he decided to get up and have some fun. It was hard to be stuck in bed all the time, especially for someone who loved to goof around as much as he did. And so, in the morning, as soon as he got up, he headed to the kitchen where he knew Prussia to be.   
Stepping in, fully clothed and looking much more like himself, he marched over to the small kitchenette table where the other country was sitting. Grabbing the other chair and casually spinning it around, America sat down in it backward, crossing his arms over the back of it and leaning inward. He stared at the albino, his expression very serious. Then, without ever taking his eyes away from him, he reached out his hand to Prussia’s plate of crêpes. He slid the entire thing away from the country, and then seemingly, out of nowhere, he pulled a Sausage McMuffin out from under his coat and placed it down in its place.   
“Peace treaty, ghost nation,” he said. “For being so awesome while at my house.” But then he leaned in further, his face still deadly serious. “But before we can claim to be neutral dudes, I’ve got one question you need to answer me first.” His blue eyes were sharp as he stared, pointedly.   
“…How long have you been doing the nasty with my little bro?”

Prussia was shocked to see the egg McMuffin peace offering. His red eyes were wide and curious, "Where did zu get zat?" He had no idea how America could have gone to McDonald’s and back without anyone noticing, but it was early in the morning. Letting the abnormality go Prussia simply stared at the breakfast sandwich with distaste. He was a bit afraid of modern fast food. Luckily he was saved from the sandwich when America asked his question. Prussia turned to stare into America’s intense blue eyes. He sized up Canada’s brother. Prussia had been a little shocked at the question, but he knew America was a straight forward kind of guy. He was like that himself.   
Prussia and Canada had talked about the whole ‘Prussia’s a secret thing’ while America had been under. Prussia understood why Matthew had kept their friendship under wraps for so long, but it was still kind of lame, but at least he and Canada were on good terms again. Prussia wondered for a moment if Canada had also discussed their current relationship with America. A toothy grin took over the Prussian’s face. That must be it. Prussia thought to himself. Matthew must have talked to his brother about us. That’s why America is mentioning this. Gilbert believed his relationship with Canada was moving along nicely, but soon a frustrated frown took over Prussia’s face. It’s nice but slow. He thought sarcastically. He let out a snort and looked away from America, “Your bruder has strict border patrols. Far better than yourz. Far better than anybody as a matter of fact. Last time I tried to invade him he hit me with that stupid hockey stick.” Prussia sighed again, “Next time I’ll have to make sure it’s furzer away.”

At first America only wrinkled his eyebrows together. He wasn’t quite sure he even understood what it was Gilbert had said. Through a thick accent and a plethora of metaphors his little American brain had trouble catching up. But then, finally, he thought he came to a conclusion to as what it was Prussia was saying. Immediately, his blue eyes widened with shock. He stood up abruptly, sliding his chair backward.   
“What? What the-DUDE! I was JOKING!” He gaped at the albino, his red eyes suddenly a lot more dangerous seeming than before. America quickly leaned in, planting both hands firmly on the table. “Dude! You mean to tell me you’ve actually TRIED to sleep with my little bro! Because I’ll fucking kill you if you did! And I think Arthur would put a bullet in you too! And France!…well…no…not France…he’d probably congratulate you, but Arthur and I will fucking kill you!” Face growing red, the two countries suddenly found themselves in almost the same exact circumstance they were in a few weeks ago at the bar. And it was then that Alfred remembered why he hadn’t killed Prussia to begin with. Matt had said they were friends, in his quiet, Canadian way.   
Oh-My-God! Alfred’s mind whirled. Are they like…interested in each other? Is MATT into this…this…asshole? The very idea was enough to suck the wind out of his sails. Because if that was the case…well…then he couldn’t just kill Prussia. It would upset Matt.  
And so, for the time being, he stood, ridged and at the ready to pounce, but holding back in preparation of Prussia’s response. If Gilbert was taking advantage of Matt at all, in any way, Alfred would kill him. But…if they were into each other…  
Oh My God! My country still doesn’t even know how they feel about gay marriage! WAAAHHH! What do I do?!?

Prussia looked like he had some witty retort when America got flustered about the current conversation. He was going to congratulate himself in front of America, and rub the current development in America’s face. He was the great Prussia after all. He couldn’t pass up a chance to gloat. Let America be pissed. Prussia smirked. He found it a little funny actually. He could revel in this situation for days to come. Then another thought popped into Gilbert’s head. He and Canada had finally gotten on great terms again. This situation could throw a wrench into all that hard work he’d put into getting Matthew to forgive him for the problems he’d caused earlier in the week. Hell, Gilbert had been trying all week to cross the countries defenses. He had come close on more than one occasion. This could really screw it all up. The thought of pissing Canada off again made Prussia’s eyebrows lower and crinkle in distaste. Prussia slowly stood up from the table. He raised his index finger into the air and motioned for America to wait,   
“Wait. Wait ze minute. Pleaze. I willz be right back.” Then he ran out of the kitchen like a flash of white lightning. He almost retreated as fast as Italy in fact. He ran upstairs to the guest room where Canada was currently sleeping. The Northern nation wasn’t one to sleep in, but he had stayed up late last night finishing a paper for his boss. As such Matthew was sound asleep when Prussia came quickly walking into the room. Canada was brought back into consciousness when he heard the floor boards of the guest room creak. Matthew opened his eyes with a yawn. The world was a bit fuzzy without his glasses on and he was lying with his back towards the door. Matthew assumed Britain needed something when he heard someone enter his room in the early morning hours. Matthew was in the process of rolling over to face the door when a certain Albino hopped up onto the bed. Gilbert hopped on top of him. With a leg on either side Prussia was sitting squarely on Matthew’s stomach. Gilbert stared down at Matthew with intense red eyes while his weight pinned the smaller nation to the bed.  
“E-eh!” Matthew let out the Canadian catch phrase as he stared up at the red eyed albino who was currently taking up residence on his stomach. Matthew’s face started to turn red as he stared up at Prussia. Prussia had become pretty persistent about bothering Matthew in this particular area over the past few days. Not that Matthew really objected, but Matthew was trying to keep the Prussia situation under wraps until Britain left and he’d left Alfred’s. Matthew was hoping to sort this all out when he went home but plans did have a way of falling apart.  
“Gi-gilbert!” Matthew hush whispered. Matthew had no clue if anyone else was up at the moment. He didn’t want to cause a scene at his brother’s house, “Now is not the time for this! I told you we’d settle this when we went back to my house!”   
Prussia laughed as he looked down at Canada’s face, “But Birdie. I can’t wait that long. I think I upset your bruder.”   
Canada’s eyes widened a bit a slight twitch developing in his left eye, “You upset Alfred? What happened!?”  
“He asked about us and I told the truth.” Prussia said honestly.  
“The truth! How much of the truth did you tell!?” Canada cried out in a panicked voice. Canada brought his hands up to his head and gently pulled at his hair. This could be disastrous. Canada thought to himself.  
“As much as ze awezome me could.” Prussia once again answered honestly. He reached out taking a hold of Canada’s hands and pulled them away from his blonde hair. Prussia held one of Canada’s hands firmly in each of his own. He gently moved Canada’s hands away from his head and held them against the mattress effectively holding Canada in place, “Birdie. I needz tha truth from you. Itz not gonna wait. He’z going to askz you.”  
Canada felt a headache looming. Did he really have to deal with this right now!? Really!? Yes. He liked Prussia! He did, but Britain was going to flip a lid and he really didn’t want to deal with Arthur or Alfred at the moment. He balled his hands into fists as aggravation at the situation settled over him. He had just started thinking about how to handle Alfred, but he didn’t get deep into thought. He looked towards some far corner of the room staring out at nothing. He had taken his eyes off of Prussia for a moment, and then suddenly he felt lips press firmly against his.  
“Hmm! Uhhm!” Matthew’s rebuttal was muffled by the lips firmly holding his hostage and the smaller nation started to squirm underneath Prussia. Damn why is this awesome! Maple! I’m using his vocabulary! He was more upset by the fact that he really didn’t want to stop it, but he knew he needed too. What if somebody walked in on this? It’s not my house you idiot! Matthew tried to say. Britain will be pissed!

Of course America followed to see where the HELL Prussia was going at this hour in the morning when everyone else was sleeping. Who leaves in the middle of such an important conversation? Did he have to pee that badly? Alfred didn’t think so. And so, he followed to see what it was he was up to.   
Needless to say, he witnessed pretty much everything. There was no hesitation, there was no warning. There was just the thud thud thud THUD THUD of running feet, and then a super power was flying through the air. He flung himself at his enemy, tackling him in his side. CRACK! Slamming into Prussia, America rocketed him straight off the bed and onto the floor. And once there, he was not going to let up. Seated on top of him, America glared daggers Gilberts way.   
“You’re DEAD! You’re FUCKING DEAD! You’re already dead, but I’m going to kill you a second time! You’ll be twice as dead dude! DUDE! No one touches my little bro! Especially not a ghost nation like you! GAAAH!”   
But oddly enough, despite his clearly apparent rage, he didn’t pummel the other nation like he had back at the bar. And try to fool himself as he might…Albert knew Matthew and he knew him well. He recalled that look he gave him back at the bar and how he’d pleaded him not to fight. Albert knew Matt liked Gilbert…even if he was a self-arrogant manipulating monkey ass face! And so, instead of killing Prussia as previous promised, he simply held him in place.   
“Matt, bro,” he said, still firmly holding Prussia down. “You tell me what to do, bro, ok? If this shit face is bothering you, you give me the word and I’ll make it so he can’t ever use his legs ever again. But if you’re into this freak show…let me know and I’ll back off. Ok, bro?” And it was painfully evident that he meant it. There was no doubt that America intended to completely cripple the other country if Matt gave the word. America glared down at Prussia with disgust.   
“And to think I offered you my Sausage McMuffin. For SHAME!” 

What just happened? The second largest country in the world stared up at the ceiling his blue eyes huge. Prussia had. Alfred. Alfred had. Matthew’s mind worked in slow motion as Alfred spoke to him. The words took time to process. As if he didn’t have enough going through his head already a shrill British voice cried out from the door, “By God! I knew it! You two are snogging! What the hell are you thinking?”  
Canada’s groan was drawn out and filled with grief. He pulled the comforter over his head hiding from the world. He just wanted to go back to sleep. This was a dream, right? A nightmare? The quiet nation couldn’t hide forever though. The longer Matthew stayed under the comforter the stronger America’s grip on Prussia’s shirt collar got. And America wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer.   
Prussia’s eye narrowed as he stared at the lump on the bed, “Matthew!” He said clearly despite the American who was pinning him down, “If you want me to go back to mine bruder’s just say so! I won’t come back. If I’m botheringz you juz zay it.”  
Britain was the first to answer that, “That’s exactly what he wants you- you- !“ Britain was turning red in the face. He was so flustered he found it hard to speak. It was the silence that made Prussia sink back against the floor. Prussia looked away from his friend and he turned his head away from America. Prussia took his answer from the silence, “I willz go home. You can be a ghost anywhere. I’ll ztay at mine bruderz. I wonz come back anymore. No morz pancakes. I’m too awezome for this anyway.”  
That got Matthew to sit up in bed. He didn’t want Gilbert to leave. He would be devastated if Prussia never came back. In a world that tended to turn him into a ghost, he didn’t want the one person who’d always noticed him to leave. He loved his family, but even America and Britain forgot about him on occasion. He loved having someone who always noticed him around. So Matthew quickly found himself crying out, “No! No! Don’t do that!” The smaller nation clambered out of bed quickly. Perhaps a bit too quickly, Matthew got tangled up in the bed sheets and fell out of bed and onto the floor next to his brother and Prussia. He frantically reached out putting his hand on Alfred’s shoulder. He was panicked, desperate, and sorry all at the same time. “It’s ok. I-I want him to stay. Please. I need him to stay.” Had he ever asked his brother something so desperately? He turned his blue eyes back to his second father and looked at Britain remorsefully. Canada knew Britain didn’t like Prussia. He had wanted to break this to his father in a more elegant manner, but he couldn’t keep it hidden anymore either, “I’m sorry. I knew you'd-” He was cut off when Britain huffed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. “Maple,” Canada sniffed as his father stormed off. Matthew didn’t turn back to face his brother either as he raised his hand to his eyes. He hadn’t wanted to upset his father, but things had seemed to unravel so quickly. With a heavy sigh he gathered his frayed nerves and wiped his eyes dry.

America had meant what he’d said. He had plenty of faults, to be sure, but he was at least fairly straight forward. And seeing Matt scramble out of bed like that and seeing him rush to Prussia’s side, well…he didn’t really need to say anything. Alfred wasn’t the best at reading emotions, but Matt’s desperate face was clear as day. And so, America did what he promised.   
“Ok bro,” he said, his voice much softer now that he knew there wasn’t any real danger to protect Matt from. Releasing Prussia, Alfred clambered off of his chest. He didn’t get up however, because Matt was still kneeling beside his…boyfriend? Alfred wasn’t sure what to call Prussia, but he knew well enough to see that it was ok. He’d always known Matt to swing that way. Canada, unlike America, had no problem with people of different orientations.   
The tension in the room was getting to be a little bit too much, especially for a country as light-hearted as America. And seeing as the impending disaster was avoided, there was certainly no need to be so upset anymore, right?   
And so, America’s usual, silly grin took over his face as he reached out an arm and slapped poor Matt across the back, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he should have.  
“You idiot, you! Dude! You should have just told me! Then I wouldn’t have tried to break your boyfriend’s legs, you know? Hahahaha! I’d argue with your taste in men though. He’s pretty ugly isn’t he?” And apparently not satisfied enough with a slap on the back, Alfred then proceeded to ‘play punch’ his little brother. And as always, his play punches were a little much for such a shy country.   
“I’ve gotchyour back man! If this jerk-wad ever gives you trouble you give me a holler! Big brother America will always be here to support you, and also to completely moderate and possibly dominate all of your foreign affairs!” 

The silence lasted for a moment. Then Canada couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I can protect my own borders, Al.” He let out a quiet laugh. The he winced as he felt a slight sting in his back, “You got your super strength back I see. I’m glad you feel better.” With one more sigh he looked back at his brother. He felt relieved that his brother was handling the situation so well. Then he looked from his brother and then down at the wide eyed Prussian who was still on the floor. Gilbert seemed a bit dazed and excited. He hadn’t moved since Canada had rushed to be by his side, “Gilbert? You ok?” Matthew asked. The Prussian continued to stare forward blankly.   
“Gil?” Matthew reached out putting his hand on Prussia’s shoulder to shake him. That’s when Prussia flew up off the floor. He jumped to his feet startling Canada, but then the albino burst into maniacal laugher.   
“I’ve done it! I’ve occupied Canada’s border!” Matthew rolled his eyes as his boyfriend continued to laugh like a nutcase.

 

When America went back downstairs Britain was sitting in a chair in the living room. His eyes white with shock. In one hand he held a tea saucer and in the other he held a tea cup. He had gone out and bought a set of tea cups after berating Alfred for not having any. At the moment though, he could have cared less about the tea. He was trembling so bad that the cup was rattling against the saucer with a fair amount of noise. He wasn't upset about Canada's policies on dating, but he was severely disturbed about who Canada was with.   
“Stupid Arse. Prussia’s been around for ages! He’s practically been with everyone in Europe! I don’t trust him! Now he’s shacking up with my former colony. Blimey! Oh my God!” The cup and saucer rattled louder as tea began to slosh out of the cup from the shaking.   
“They’re snogging like it’s nothing! He’s not even a real country!” Britain didn’t seem to notice the tea spilling onto his pants, “By God this is France’s fault! France is one of Gilbert’s best friends! I bet he knew about this! What does this mean for Canada’s relationship with Germany? Does Germany know about this?”

After seeing everything was ok with his brother, America headed down stairs to check on Britain. Arthur had always been a worry-wart. America remembered being a kid, growing up in his house. He hadn’t been allowed to do hardly anything fun at all!   
“Get off that counter!”  
“Do NOT play with those matches!”  
“Knives are not toys!”  
“No, you’re not getting a rocket for your birthday!”  
Those were just a few of his memories. As such, he knew he’d be freaking out about this too. And of course he was right. Stepping into the living room, he found Britain shaking like a leaf, tea cup rattling and spilling tea everywhere. Alfred couldn’t help but to laugh.  
“Hahaha! You’re such an old worry-wart!” Running over, America leapt and plopped his butt down on the couch just beside his parental figure. “You are kinda right though, Prussia is kind of a man whore. And it probably IS France’s fault. Pretty much everything is, am I right?” He laughed again as he elbowed his father figure in the side.   
“Anyway, Arty, we gotta let Matt do what he’s gotta do, right? How’s the famous saying go?” He put a index finger to his chin in thought as his blue eyes lifted to the ceiling. “If you love someone, teach them how to fish? No wait…it’s…give a man a fish and he eats for a day? No wait…this has nothing to do with fish. Letting someone go is the hardest thing to do? No wait…life is like a box of chocolates…no…no…wait! I got it!” Snapping his fingers he looked to poor Britain.  
“Love is all you need! Yeah! The Beetles had it right! And you should trust them Arty! They’re from your neck of the woods!” America smiled brightly, clearly convinced that he had fixed everything for poor Arthur. “Even if Prussia is a whore, maybe that’s what Matt wants right now. We should support him, even if Prussia is a monkey ass face. If you’re worried, you can just leave it to me! I’ll protect him and make sure he doesn’t get into trouble. I just told him upstairs that if he ever needs me to save him, to just say the word and I’ll rush in guns blazing! Then he said something about being able to protect his own boarders, but clearly that part was a joke.”   
America continued to grin, convinced he was being just oh-so-helpful. In reality, he was just setting his father-figure up for a heart attack.   
“Yup! No need to worry when America is your older brother who lives next door!” 

As America continued to speak the tea cup only began to rattle louder and louder. Eventually it shook right out of Arthur’s hand, and tea spilled all over his pants. This ungentlemanly behavior didn’t seem to pull the Brit out of his thoughts. He was still staring off in shock and horror as he thought of Canada and Prussia, “You kids know nothing about Prussia! Only what you’ve read in history books….”  
Arthur thought about what he was saying to America and rephrased, “Only what you’ve played in video games! Blimey!” Britain jumped to his feet. The tea cup he’d been using went crashing to the floor, “I can’t let this happen. I don’t trust that arse! People from my neck of the woods- Ugh! You can’t trust him! He’ll stab Matthew in the back! A-and you! You hardly ever visit your brother! How will you be able to keep an eye on him? I can’t do it! I’m too far away and you’re not responsible enough!” In truth no one really visited the Canadian. He wasn’t involved in a lot of the things his family was involved in. His only real sport interest was hockey which he dominated. Matthew didn’t enjoy foreign films, or his brother’s over hyped movies. Plus when Canada did show up for things he was far from the center of attention, hell, the kid was somewhat invisible most of the time. It was a shame to admit that they’d actually left Matthew at venues before, not remembering the Northern nation had attended with them.  
Britain paced. Prussia would be at Matthew’s house if they were snogging! All kinds of things could happen. At just that moment the albino nation came walking downstairs like he was king of the world. He wore a triumphant grin. After his long night of paper writing Matthew needed more sleep, so he’d gone back to bed. As such Prussia decided to come downstairs and brave his boyfriend’s family. At Canada’s request he decided to try and reassure Britain, “Ze awezome me will take awezome care of him. Zu don’t needz to worry.” Prussia said with vigor.  
“I’ll make that call! You are friends with that blasted FROG! You can’t be trusted!”, Britain hollered. Britain stalked towards Prussia index finger raised. He was going into a full on rant about how irresponsible and ridiculous the situation was. He was telling Prussia that he should leave. Britain carried on for quite a while, but Prussia stood his ground. Prussia let Britain speak his mind without making one sarcastic comment. It was clear by his demeanor that he was serious about Canada. He never once faltered in his resolve of taking care of Matthew despite Britain’s criticism that the relationship was a disaster waiting to happen.


	4. A doomed future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will happen when a visitor from the future brings an ominous warning?

Chapter 4  
A Doomed Future

Back upstairs in America’s house, while the three other countries downstairs fussed and argued, Canada rested peace. He lay in the guest room, golden hair strewn about his pillow. A stuffed animal version of his polar bear lay snuggled loosely between his arms. Glasses resting on the nightstand of the guest room he occupied, and his new boyfriend finally out in the open with his family, things seemed as if they might actually work out. Britain may have been angry and mistrusting at the moment, but at least America seemed as if he were trying to be accepting…in his strange overprotective way. And so, the quieter of the two twins was able to close his eyes and rest.   
But far away from such a peaceful time, was a future that was torn apart by war, famine, disease and despair. And in an act of complete and total desperation, a certain country may have stolen Britain’s book of black magic. And with absolutely nothing left to lose, that country cast a spell that had been both forbidden, and considered so dangerous…it was also cursed.   
He hardly cared. And so, through a blanket of darkness and light, he was sucked out of his time period, and sent five years into the past. Thankfully…he had remembered the exact date that would lead him to a location where all the players he needed were in one place together. And the only reason he’d been able to remember such a date, was because it had been right after the elections, and also right after he had recovered from hurricane Sandy.   
He knew he would arrive at his own house. And he also knew…that Canada, Britain, Prussia, and a past version of himself would be present. It would cause a time paradox to be certain…but again he didn’t care. He hardly cared about anything anymore. There was only one thing left that he could do.  
In the same swirl of darkness and light, the country appeared in the upstairs bedroom where Canada currently rested. And as the magic around him began to fade…the country collapsed down to one knee from the weight of his own body, and the pain it took to hold himself upright.   
It was America…but he hardly resembled the America everyone was so familiar with. He looked drastically, dreadfully different from the one that was, at that moment, downstairs, laughing and teasing Britain, or making fun of Prussia. This America…could have easily been mistaken for someone else.  
He wasn’t in his usual jacket. His was in his army uniform, complete with combat boots and dog tags. He would have had his helmet too…had it not been blown from his head in the last firefight he took part in. And the uniform itself was worse for wear. It was torn in places, mud smeared and spattered it, and worse of all…were the dark red stains it sported in places.  
America himself looked worse than his camouflage. His skin was darkened with the same mud. No longer pale, but rather tanned from being out in the sun all day, every day, gave him an even darker look still. He was covered in sweat. His golden hair had been crudely hacked off, seemingly with a knife. What was left of it was stained with blood.   
Lifting his head, the eye patch he wore became painfully obvious. It was clearly a homemade one, roughly applied, probably in the midst of battle. It was just some cloth that had been torn and taped over his wound…and it wasn’t doing its job completely…blood was still seeping out from under it running down his left cheek and toward his jaw line.  
Blood also dripped from a split and swollen looking lower lip, and a gash over his healthy eye. And as he struggled to catch his breath, something that seemed much more labored than it should be, spatterings of the liquid stained the carpet beneath him.  
Knowing he had to stand and do his job, America reached out and grabbed onto his AK47 which he had dropped upon entry just next to the magic book, which he ignored. It had served its purpose. As he took hold of his gun with both hands, it became clear that he was missing several fingers on his left hand. What was left of the appendage had also been hastily wrapped in the same way as his eye. But luckily, he’d always been a righty, and so, felt he could at least still operate his gun and get the job done.  
“Get up…” he mumbled to himself through grit teeth. “Get up soldier!” He called upon the willpower he’d always had within himself when things became impossibly tough. Despite the way he once acted in his days of the past, appearing carefree and someone useless, he actually was quite determined, and a lot tougher than the other countries may have even realized. America had a spirit that couldn’t be crushed or defeated…even when the country itself was being crushed and defeated.   
“I won’t fucking die! Not yet!!!” He had one thing left to do. And by God he was going to do it. Once it was done, it would be done, and he would cease to exist anyway. And so, on spirit and willpower alone, and with the strength of the states in the future that still stood, he pushed himself back upright and to his feet.   
Standing erect and tall, his shoulders back and his chin held high, he lifted his gun with him, even though it was growing heavier by the second.   
I have to find Prussia, he thought desperately. I have to find him before it’s all too late! Not noticing Matthew in the bed for the moment, for he was facing the bedroom door, and the bed itself was to his left…the side he was blind on…he took one unsteady step forward, his army boots clumping loudly on the floor. 

Canada had been dozing peacefully when he felt something odd. It was hard to explain. Probably another one of those twin things as Britain so often said. He got that feeling whenever his twin was close by, but… this sensation felt different. It was a heavy feeling in his gut, and it made him uncomfortable.  
Unable to ignore it Matthew opened his eyes and saw the fuzzy outline of his brother in the illuminated doorway. Matthew’s first instinct was to roll his eyes. He was tired, damn it. He wanted to sleep. He’d been up practically all night.   
Matthew couldn’t tell very well because his glasses sat on the nightstand, but it seemed like his brother was wearing something strange. Matthew could tell Alfred was not wearing his normal clothes. The colors were to dim, were they army green? Was that a rifle? What the hell? What was Alfred doing?  
Matthew took a tight hold on the stuffed bear in his arms. He didn’t hesitate to throw the bear across the room and hit Alfred with it,   
“Alfred, what the hell are you doing?” Matthew reached out to grab his glasses from the nightstand and pulled them on. He let out a yawn, “I just got to sleep again, Al.”   
“Al….” His voice trailed off when he opened his eyes and stared at his older brother. His blue eyes grew huge as he took in the horrible sight of his twin brother. “…A-a-alf-red?” his voice caught in his throat as he sat up in bed, “O-oh mon dieu.”

America stopped in the doorway once hit with the bear. But even far more shocking for him was hearing his twin brother’s voice. Slowly, he turned around. As he did, it would have been even more shocking for poor Canada to see his battered face. But as America’s one good eye, fell to his brother’s sweet face, his entire war hardened exterior changed.   
“M…Matthew?” His voice had quivered, and along with it, so did his chin. Matt watched as Alfred’s entire expression transformed, twisting and warping into one of complete and total grief. He appeared completely heartbroken, an emotion Canada never had witnessed before on his brother’s face.  
America’s one blue eye began to shimmer, and tears unashamedly began to roll down his dirtied face. Before Canada could ever understand what was happening, America turned to face him completely, and then ran to him, a slight limp in his right leg.   
“Brother!” America flung himself at Matthew, and once he reached him at his bed side, he fell to his knees, dropping his weapon to the floor at his side. Reaching out, he clutched the young blonde to his chest, tightly, with both hands and with a desperation no one had ever seen on what should have been a strong countries face.   
“Oh my God! You’re here! I mean, I knew you would be, but I…I…I didn’t think I could…” And quite suddenly…he was sobbing. He buried his bruised and bloodied face in the northern countries shoulder, his tears and blood soaking into his pajamas.   
“I…I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! Please! Please forgive me little brother? I thought I could protect you…keep you safe but I…I couldn’t! And I…I didn’t know what was happening until you were gone! And once you were gone, I…I couldn’t find you! I searched everywhere! I’m so sorry! Please believe me? I tried everything but I…I was too late!”   
He clutched Canada to his chest, refusing to let go. That may have been disturbing enough for Matt, and his brothers appearance would have been terrifying too, and maybe even the things he was blubbering about, or perhaps seeing him so upset, but perhaps even most of all, would be the way he trembled in Canada’s arms. He was clearly a complete and total wreck, and he looked almost…as if he were dying…  
“Please forgive me,” he said again, burying his face against him. “I w…I wasn’t a good big brother. I failed…I’ve failed everyone…but mostly you.” If at all possible, he held onto Matthew even more tightly, his body, considerably thinner than what Matt was used to, trembled even more violently from his grief.   
“I love you Matthew,” he said, another sob escaping him. “I was always joking around, or teasing you…and I…I never told you enough…how much I love you. How important you are to me…Please…please forgive me. I’ve come for a second chance…please give me a second chance…” 

“Eh.” Canada’s eyes were as large as the moon. He was far passed confused. At first his arms hung at his sides as his twin grabbed him and started to blubber and cry. He knew his brother was a prankster. Hell, Alfred pulled pranks all the time. A few seconds ago Matthew assumed his brother’s get up was a ruse of some sort, but he felt his brother shaking. He’d never seen his brother cry like this. He couldn’t fake this raw type of emotion. Alfred just wasn’t that good of an actor. Besides America’s tough front was one thing Matthew had always believed his brother would never let slip. He’d seen his brother keep the tough front up in the darkest of times, but here was his twin crying like a baby.  
Matthew raised his arms unaware that the terror was causing him to shake as well. He reached out tightly wrapping his arms around his brother. What is he talking about? He hasn’t failed me? Did something happen? Did he get attacked? Did I miss something? Where are Britain and Prussia? Surely if something this horrible had happened somebody would have come and woke him up. Everything seemed ok, but here was Alfred bleeding, sobbing, and a total wreck in his arms. So Matthew did the only thing he could think. He pulled his brother closer to him.   
“It’s ok Alfred. I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Al. I’m fine. I’m fine bro. Y-you didn’t fail me. C-calm down. Ok?” And of course, Canada knew that they needed some help, right away, so he called out in his quiet way for their father, “Br-Britain!” He was still in shock and his voice was low. But it was then that he looked down at himself and saw the blood. It was everywhere. Alfred was bleeding and the blood was soaking through Matthew’s pajamas and the bed as well. He’d known he was hurt…but the sheer amount of it showed him how bad it truly was. Horror quickly began to set in.  
“BRITAIN! BRITAIN HELP! PLEASE HELP!” He shrieked. Matthew’s blue eyes stayed wide. “Alfred! You’re bleeding! You’re really bleeding! What happened to you? What’s going on? Oh God! You need to lie down! You’re wounds! Mon Deiu!” Matthew felt himself wanting to hyperventilate at seeing his brother in such poor condition. 

The trio downstairs heard the Northern nation scream. Britain ran up the stairs.  
“What the bloody hell is it now? Matthew! What’s the matter-” Britain burst into the guest room and froze. His green eyes grew huge as he saw America in Canada’s arms. America looked horrid. The younger nation looked like he’d been through WW3, but Britain would recognize his former colony anywhere.   
Why is he injured like that? Oh my God! What’s going on here? Britain spun around to find his America standing behind him. Having just come up the stairs, the super power had a look of shock on his face.   
“What the-” There were two of them! Obviously the America in Matthew’s arms didn’t belong here. Britain mentally tried to think of any logical reason for there to be two America’s.  
He spun back around to the America in Matthew’s arms. Britain’s eyes searched the room desperately and then his wide, green eyes traveled down to the floor. There it was. There was the answer to this mystery. It was a spell book. It was his spell book. The book looked worse for wear, but black magic was obviously behind this fiasco.   
Britain had been with America all morning. So the present day America hadn’t performed any magic. Plus Britain knew his spell book was in his home. It was not in America. Britain’s mind raced through the spells trying to pinpoint the exact one Alfred had used.   
“Oh my God! What have you done, Alfred? You git! You stole my spellbook!” The horrified Britain stared at the scene in front of him in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. Suddenly realization came to Britain. Why would Alfred use this spell? This wasn’t a duplication spell or some little incantation.   
There was only one spell that would have the end result of two existences of the same person in one place and also answer for all the lunacy that was currently taking place. That spell was forbidden because the penalty for casting that spell was the death of the castor. His British mind was reeling. This was a time travel spell, and that spell was highly ineffective anyway, the castor of the spell would die within minutes of going back in time. This future America was doomed and nothing Britain could do would save him. Britain felt his heart beat violently in his chest. But then, a third pair of feet came up the stairs and over to the open doorway.  
“Birdie! Are you ok?” Prussia rounded the corner and stood in the doorway behind Britain.

America from the present day, the one that had been downstairs with Britain and Prussia ran up the stairs just behind Britain when he heard Canada scream. He sounded really scared! Worried for his little Bro (maybe he was having a nightmare?) America ran into the room just behind the elder country. And once he stepped in…he froze in place.  
A man was in the room with Matt. He was in an American soldier’s uniform, and he was kneeling in front of his baby brother…blubbering…crying…and he was horrifically injured. Blood dripped from his face and out from under his hair…or what was left of it. He looked like a wreck.   
America quickly looked to Matt’s face. He saw the fear there, and he immediately knew what he had to do. This man…whoever he was…must have broken into his house. And now, he was scaring his bro! Immediately, America marched forward, meaning business. Reaching out, he grabbed the strangers shoulder.   
“Look here pal! I don’t know who you think you are, but no one frightens my little broth-!” But America’s righteous rant was immediately cut short when the stranger turned to face him. His face, although thin, and haggard, and even with a missing eye, was quite unmistakable. It was like looking into a mirror. A horrible, terrifying mirror.   
America fell speechless. He was too shocked to make a witty comeback, or even move. This soldier before him…the one that looked like he may die from his wounds…was…him?  
That’s impossible, he thought. No one looks like me…except Matthew. But…his face…  
The American soldier appeared as if he were going to say something to the present day America…but that was when Prussia stepped into the room.   
“Birdie! Are you ok?”  
Everyone in the room watched as the soldier’s tears stopped. His grief stricken, defeated expression changed drastically, and as quickly as spreading fire, anger bloomed over his features. His good eye hardened, flames igniting deep within them. His lips curled, a horrible snarl making its way over his face. He trembled again, but this time, due to a very different emotion.   
“You!” And just like that, he looked more like the Devil himself than someone crippled by grief and fatal injuries. He summoned all the strength he had left, then reached down to his gun. Grabbing it, he rose to his feet, releasing Canada. Staggering just a bit, he purposefully and quickly marched forward, moving rather well considering how much pain he should have been in. He didn’t explain himself, and he said nothing as he went to the door. He grabbed Britain, then suddenly and roughly shoved him aside. And then, once he was out of the way, he didn’t even hesitate to lift his AK47.   
He aimed at Prussia, planted his feet, then immediately pulled the trigger. The gun went off, deafening in the small space of the upper bedroom of the house. And as the bullet flew, their shells falling to the floor, the soldier screamed in what sounded like a completely crazed rage. 

Prussia’s red eyes widened when the future America stood up from his place next to Matthew. He immediately knew the look in future America’s eyes. It was the look of someone who was about to kill. Gilbert knew he was in trouble when he saw future America reach out and shove Britain aside. Seeing as he was the only one left on the bad end of the gun Prussia was scrambling before America ever pulled the trigger. He dropped low as bullets whizzed over his head. He let out a cry as he crawled and scrambled through the bedroom door and out into the hallway. It wasn’t like the wall offered much protection though. Wood splintered and rained down just above his head as he fled down the hallway.  
Canada let out a cry of horror as his war torn brother started shooting at his boyfriend. His hands flew up and covered his ears as the sound of the gun filled the room and his ears began to ring. Matthew quickly started to hyperventilate again when he realized his hands were covered in America’s blood, and it was soaking into his hair and dripping down the sides of his face. It was horrifying. There was still blood everywhere, and wherever the war torn Alfred went a trail of red followed.   
Canada didn’t know why there were two Alfred’s in the room. He didn’t know why the war torn Alfred was shooting at his boyfriend. Matthew didn’t have the vaguest idea what was happening. However, Matthew did know he loved his brother, be it the brother he was used too who was standing and staring at the scene in shock or this crazed solider brother. It didn’t matter.   
Alfred was Alfred, and currently the Alfred with the assault rifle was bleeding profusely, and he needed to be stopped. Matthew jumped from the bed and ran after America.  
“Stop! Stop! STOP!” He reached out grabbing at the gun in the crazed America’s hands. He grabbed the barrel ignoring his burning hand and grabbed at the stock. He wrenched the barrel up and away from the direction of his boyfriend. The line of bullets flew up the wall and into the roof, plaster and paint raining down on the pair. Matthew was terrified. All the motion was causing future America to bleed more,   
“ALFRED! STOP! What are you doing? You’re still bleeding!” Canada let go of the rifle and reached out putting his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Alfred! What is going on?”  
Perhaps no one else could’ve broken America from his crazed state. Nothing else could have reached him but those tearing blue orbs that were identical to his own. Those blue eyes that he hadn’t seen in 3 years.

~~

Future America would still remember the descent into hell that he’d taken over the last 5 years. It had been July 1st. Canada’s birthday was on that day like it had been for ages. America had canceled last minute on their plans that day. It wasn’t on purpose, but things had gotten so busy. His boss had needed him, and Matthew although disappointed had understood and they agreed that next year they’d do something awesome to make up for it. Then three days later it had been July 4th, America’s birthday. Canada had come to his birthday party, but he hadn’t stayed the whole time. Canada was a quiet guy. He was much like Japan in that way. Matthew had come to wish his brother well and watch the fireworks, but he had left before the drinking and all out party had set in around one in the morning.   
That had been it. No warning or hints about the things to come.   
There were really no major holidays between July 4th and Christmas that they shared. Canadian and American Thanksgiving were held on different days. Canada had long since argued that he was too old to go trick or treating. As such Alfred hadn’t started missing his brother until around December when he hadn’t received an RSVP for the Christmas party he threw every year. After no returns to his calls he’d called both Britain and France. He had found out that no one had heard from Matthew for quite some time.   
They’d later be told by the white haired bastard whose past self was currently hiding, that July 6th was the day Gilbert had tricked Matthew into going to Russia. Future Gilbert had bragged about how easy it had been. He had said they were going to Germany for extended plans, which is what Canada’s boss had assumed. Prussia had boasted that he had put a little something in Canada’s drink, and Matthew didn’t wake up until long after touchdown in the other country.   
By the time everyone realized something was terribly wrong they had no leads on where Canada could be. His house was abandoned and long since covered in dust when America had gone to check on his little brother.  
Future Prussia would once again brag after the start of the war that Canada was much too easy, and that he’d also acted rather pathetically during the time he’d been a prisoner in Russia. At the start of the war Canada had been A-bombed. Britain and France took the bombings as a sorrowful sign. The bombings had destroyed many of the government buildings and other national treasures. When Canada’s government officially crumbled during occupation by N. Korea, China, New Prussia, and Russia the two fathers’ knew that wherever Matthew was he was most likely dead.   
A few days after that Prussia had personally called America. After insulting Alfred on his idiocy Prussia told America the exact latitude and longitude of Matthew’s whereabouts. Britain and France had tried everything to keep Alfred from walking into a trap. When it became apparent Alfred was going they had come with him. It had indeed been a trap, but not like the one Britain and France had been worried about. No one interfered when they got to their destination.   
Along the American-Canadian border was Canada’s body. It was discarded in the snow like some trash. The battered remains wrapped in a white sheet that didn’t hide any of the torture the young nation had gone through. Radiation burns covered more than half of his body. His once beautiful hair was frail and most of it had fallen out due to the radiation poisoning. It was quickly apparent that the body was sickeningly thin and the scars…those were all over.   
It had been a psychological attack and had devastated all of them... no one worse than America. Canada was the first nation that America had lost in such a way. They had laid his brother to rest, but that didn’t end the torture.   
To torment Alfred further Gilbert purposefully mailed America tapes of certain times when Canada had been a prisoner. Prussia’s plans were to demoralize his enemy. Prussia sent America segments when Canada had been talking out loud and begging his brother to help him or begging the empty room he’d been in that he would be able to talk to any of his family members again or times when Canada was clearly insane with torture and pain and would curse those family members for not helping him then soon after beg them for help again. This psychological warfare had plagued future America ever since the start of WW3.  
And clearly, Prussia’s strategy to completely demoralize his enemy with psychological warfare had worked. And it had worked well. One of America’s biggest strengths, his fortitude and spirit had crumbled into dust. Completely devastated by the loss, the grief, the crushing guilt of having not protected his brother, it was almost impossible to fight in a war against the Canadian border where Prussia was advancing every single day onto American soil. Having taken over his little brothers country, America found himself face to face with innocent Canadians every time he lifted his gun. After all, what a better way to get more troops, and also ensure your enemy couldn’t fight back than to force the men and women of the defeated nation to fight? Alfred found himself in a position of having to choose between protecting America, or shooting his deceased little brother’s citizens in the face almost every moment of every day.   
It drove him completely mad.

~~~~

Of course poor Canada had no way of knowing any of these future events. He squeezed future America’s shoulders. Canada’s tears were running down his face.   
“Please. Please Alfred. Please you’re hurt. You’re bleeding. I need to help you.” Britain ran after his future son. His future spell book in hand.   
“Matthew! He’s from the future. This is my book of black magic. He’s used a forbidden spell to go back in time!” Britain enlightened the crowd as to what was happening. Matthew stared into his brother’s crazed eye. Matthew’s own eyes were still horrified.  
“Oh mon dieu. What happened to you? Who hurt you like this? I won’t let anyone hurt you like this Alfred. I wouldn’t let this happen. I’d protect you.” Canada couldn’t believe he’d let his brother get into this bad of shape. Sure Alfred could be annoying, but Canada loved his brother. No one messed with his brother. No one. So how had this happened?

The soldier wouldn’t be stopped from his mission. Once he spotted Prussia, any distraction that would come his way wouldn’t stop him…not even his beloved brother. America knew perfectly well that he only had a few moments left to live. And as much as he would love to spend his last moments with his family, he had made this sacrifice so that they might live in the future. As such…just a bit more heartache was needed, just a bit more suffering. In denying himself the company he so desperately wanted from Matthew, he would fulfill his mission by killing Prussia where he stood…or crawled, like the worm he was.  
And so…as good as a blow to his own heart, he cruelly shoved Matthew aside when he came to try and stop him. Far too wild in his desperate rage for words, he offered no explanation as he then ran out of the room after the country that had destroyed all he’d ever loved, all he’d ever cherished.   
I’ll kill him. I will succeed! I must! I have no choice! He raced out into the hall after his quarry. There was a glimpse of white hair that started to disappear behind a corner. Fueled solely on adrenaline and desperation, and numb to his pain from post traumatic shock, America launched himself after Prussia in a mad dash. Seemingly almost superhuman, and defying his fate, at least for a few more seconds, he rounded the corner and lifted his gun a second time.   
Screaming in a rage, he fired again, but Prussia was ahead of him now and dove into a bedroom. The walls splintered and shattered under the force of the automatic weapon. Paint was reduced to dust as Alfred’s hallway was ripped apart by the bullets.   
But as the bullets flew, they eventually ran out. America had used up most of his ammo in the battle he’d just come from, and even an AK47 could run dry. Knowing he had nothing to replenish it with, he dropped it to the floor with a CLUNK. Reaching down to his thighs, he then pulled out a hand gun. Starting down the hall, weakened and finally seemingly to start to slow, he staggered down the destroyed passageway. He almost lost his balance once, his shoulder falling against the wall, but with incredible determination he forced himself upright again and kept going.  
“Come on out you Prussian PIG!” He screamed. Delirious from blood loss and shock, he wasn’t sure which room he’d ducked into. As such, he raised his gun as he came across each one, briefly glimpsing inside. “Come out and I’ll make it quick and easy! It’s far FAR more than you deserve!”   
Breathing was becoming more difficult, but he didn’t care.   
I don’t need to breathe in order to pull a trigger, he thought. I don’t even need all my fingers. Looking into the next room, he found it empty.   
“You like to play games? You like to torture people, hmm? By giving back their little brother after he’s DEAD!” Stepping up to the next doorway, he spotted what he was looking for. A dash of white hair was poking out from behind some bedroom curtains.   
America didn’t hesitate. He launched himself inside. Moving far more quickly than he should have been able to, he reached the curtain and struck out. Grabbing onto his enemy, he tackled him to the floor. Sitting on top of him, he grabbed his neck, pinning him down with his mutilated left hand. With the right, he jammed his handgun into his forehead. Eyes completely crazed he screamed.  
“I’m sending you to HELL!” He pulled the trigger.  
Click click. A small sound of the metal pin hitting back against nothing plinked into the room instead of the huge explosion of the gunshot the soldier expected.   
America’s good eye twitched. He immediately pulled the trigger again, several more times.   
Click, click, click, click, click.  
He was clearly out of bullets, perhaps used up in the last battle he’d fought before he went back in time. His intense face started to change as he realized he had no ammunition left for any of the weapons he carried. Without hesitation, he dropped his gun, then curled both hands around Prussia’s neck. He’d strangle him to death if he had to! Bare handed!  
But…as he tried to…he quickly realized that he hadn’t the strength. He wouldn’t have, even before the leap through time. But now that he’d messed with such a dark spell, and his life was being drained away, he hadn’t a hope of calling forth such strength.   
His hands trembled from the effort, but he hardly was even putting much pressure on the ghost nation. Alfred’s eyes filled with a sudden onslaught of fresh tears.   
“..n…no. N..o…No! NO! NOO!” But he felt himself fading and he knew it was too late. He’d failed in his mission, and his imminent death was preventing him from carrying it out. And with no reason to push himself forward, with no reason to go on anymore, he almost instantly collapsed.   
He exhaled harshly, then simply gave up his remaining strength. Falling forward, he collapsed on top of his enemy. Hardly even able to move anymore without the inner willpower he’d been using all this time, he cursed himself inwardly for not being able to do a single damned thing right the entire war.   
All the same…he wasn’t ready to completely give up yet. If he couldn’t do it…if he couldn’t carry out the mission, he would find someone else who could. He had to at least warn his family of future events. He had to at least tell Britain the things that had happened. It could still be prevented he was sure. And if he could just tell himself, the past version of America all these things…then…he never would have left Matthew alone for so long. He could have saved him…had he only known.   
And, perhaps more than that…he didn’t want to be alone when he died. He wanted, needed his family with him.   
“M…Ma…Matthew…” He called weakly. He wanted to at least look into his brother’s face one last time, have his father hold onto him as the darkness crept in. And if he could just tell himself from years past…how important family actually was…well…then maybe he wouldn’t have taken advantage of them for most of his life. 

“Hold still!” Britain was the first to his former colony’s side. “Bloody Hell, Alfred. You’ve gone barmy! ” He reached out pulling Alfred up and off of Prussia and back into his arms. “What the hell has happened? Why are you here?”   
Britain held America firmly in his arms. Arthur was keeping the dying nation upright and secured against his chest. This was quite possibly the most awful thing Arthur had ever felt. True he bickered with America. True he loved to point out Alfred’s flaws and lecture him on them, but he loved the nation he’d raised as a son. He surely never wanted to see this! He held Alfred all the tighter. He had to wonder how this future America had even found out about the time traveling spell. Surely his future British self hadn’t told America about it. Obviously this future America was unhinged. How bad could the world be that this was the only answer? But Britain had heard America scream part of the answer while he’d been chasing down Prussia. Arthur held America to his green vest as tightly as he dare and looked to the Prussian standing just across the room.   
“Alfred. What did you mean? What do you mean Prussia likes to torture people? What do you mean your little brother died? What happened? Tell me, love.”

Prussia crawled away from the two. He was in shock as well. Not to mention being chased by a crazed America was enough to scare the shit out of anyone, but the things America was saying were equally as horrid.  
“Ze awezome me would n-never.” His red eyes went to Matthew, but he didn’t approach his boyfriend.

Then Matthew was there standing a few feet in front of his downed brother. Matthew looked at Prussia in shock and horror then he went to Alfred’s side. Matthew looked at Britain with a look of utter terror. He was trying to ask if his brother would be ok, but Britain shook his head no. Matthew immediately understood what was taking place.   
“M-mon dieu…” Matthew reached out putting his hands onto either side of Alfred’s face. The tears were leaking out of his eyes again, but he tried to wipe them away.   
“H-hey bro. Oh mon Dieu s'il vous plaît ne faites pas cela.” (Oh God, Please don’t do this.) He found himself defaulting back to his first language in times of stress, and surely nothing would ever be more stressful than this. Of course Alfred could find comfort in his brother’s French. It was something that was unique to Matthew. France always had a serious translation lisp whenever he spoke English, but Matthew could speak either language just fine.  
Matthew gently kept his hands on America’s dying face. He stared into his brother’s eyes now that future America wasn’t rampaging around and destroying the house while simultaneously trying to kill Prussia.  
“I- I don’t understand Alfred. I-I don’t get it.” He had heard what his brother had said, but he couldn’t grasp it. What had Alfred meant by saying his little brother died? Canada felt fine. He wouldn’t just die. He was a nation. How could that be? How was his death Prussia’s fault? Alfred had talked about having guilt upstairs. He’d been apologizing for failing. Canada’s eyebrows knit together.  
“Alfred. I would never blame you for-for something you couldn’t control. I- I love you, brother. It's ok. I would never hate you. No matter what.”

The dying country smiled, but even his grin didn’t make him resemble the country he once was. This smile had far too much melancholy behind it to belong to the America everyone currently knew. He lifted a hand. It shook due to his fading strength, but had managed to gently touch Canada’s cheek all the same.  
“You’ve always been…so sweet at heart…such a…kind country…” He wanted more time. More time to spend with his father and brother. But he knew that even this would be stolen from him. He didn’t have time. He was dying. He could feel it inside. And with what time he had left, he knew he had to make them understand.   
“Matthew…listen…” he said, his voice already losing its edge. “Don’t let Prussia into your heart. Don’t…please. He…he betrays us. He takes you away. He takes you to Russia and Russia holds you there while Prussia takes over your country…” America’s face twisted in on itself. His expression crumpled at the mere memory of it.   
“They…they bomb everything…and..and…you…you died…” Tears rolled down, carving clean trails through the muck and grime on his face. “He gave you back to me after you were dead…just to break me.” His hand fell away from his twins face as he turned his head away, squeezing his one good eye shut from the horror of his memories.  
“Of course…once he had Canada for his own…he came after me. We…started world war three. I…had Britain and France, and Japan on my side but…Russia and China and North Korea were helping Prussia. We seemed evenly matched for a while…but Prussia…Prussia sure is good at fucking with people. He started sending me videos of you… from when you were held prisoner…in Russia. I…I couldn’t…I…I just want…wanted..”   
But he really didn’t need to finish. The message was clear enough. He turned his face into Arthur’s chest, burying his face.   
“Dad…” And that must have been a strange thing for everyone to hear. America hadn’t called Britain ‘dad’ since he was a little boy. “Dad…don’t let him…don’t let Prussia near Matt. He…disappears…right after my birthday of this upcoming year. We…we…we never see him again! Please…d..don’t…let him…”   
Alfred was starting to fade and he was fading fast. His breathing very suddenly became very labored. Wheezing, a strange, unnatural liquid-like sound could be heard coming from inside him. And a second later, blood could be seen between his lips.

Matthew’s eyes widened even further. All the blood was quickly draining from his face. His heart was racing so fast he thought it would explode in his chest. This was too much.   
“A-Alfred.” Matthew reached out and wiped the blood away from his dying brother’s mouth. “St-stop talking, Alfred. S-save your strength. Pl-please.” His eyes welled up once more and he reached out carefully wrapping his arms around his brother. He held him, pressing his forehead against Alfred’s shoulder, “I’ll be ok, Al. I promise. I love you so much.” He held his dying brother as tightly as he dared.  
Britain’s green eyes narrowed. He had been weary of the albino country since he’d first found Gilbert with Matthew. Now Arthur was downright furious. The nostalgia of being called dad welling within him as his son lay dying. Alfred hadn’t said those words since long before the revolutionary war. Even then it had been rare. Britain looked down at his two sons. How dare the albino bastard cause any action that would lead to this horrible fate! Britain moved his left arm and laid it around America and latched onto Canada holding onto him tightly. He was afraid Canada would vanish then and there.  
“It’s ok Alfred. I will not let him hurt your brother. I have Matthew. I will not let him disappear. Alfred, you’re saying Prussia betrays Matthew, and Prussia kills your brother? Y- you came back to keep that from happening?” Even if all that was true there were so many questions up in the air. Arthur had been afraid Prussia would sleep around on Matthew, but to betray, kidnap, and kill his second son? That had never crossed Britain’s mind. Not in his wildest dreams. Gilbert take over Canada? What the hell kind of future was this?  
“Wh-when do they bomb Canada, Alfred?” Britain quickly asked his dying son. Prussia wasn’t a country so obviously one of the other countries would have had to do the bombings, “Which one was it? Who was behind the attack? Was that Russia? Who bombed Canada?”

Alfred turned his attention back to his father. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to speak. His chest was growing heavy, but he knew Arthur was the most reliable in the group. He had to answer.  
“R…Russia…Russia…is behind most…all of it…” he answered. And of course, in looking at his father’s worried face, emotion for him welled up inside all over again. He knew, he had to apologize to him too before he died.  
“I’m..s…so sorry dad. I…y…you told me not to take your book…th…that you…couldn’t…bear to lose me too…af..after…Matthew. But…you…you didn’t understand…that.I..I…was already dead…” More blood bubbled up from his lips, garbing his words. But even in death he wasn’t going to let it stop him.   
“Pr…Prussia…was…at…New York’s door just before I left…in…fact…I’m not…even sure if it’s the curse that’s killing me…or…if…P…Prussia…” His voice trailed off. He saw the understanding in Arthur’s eyes. He didn’t need to finish. Feeling his life slip away from him, he knew he only had seconds left. His vision fading along with the rest of him, he lifted his eyes to the room’s doorway.   
Standing there, and having been there the entire time, was the current day’s America. He’d followed his family, but hadn’t set foot into the tomb. He’d seen everything, heard every word. But he was in far too much shock to move or speak. He could barely keep up with what was happening. It was so overwhelming. It just couldn’t be true. None of it could possibly be true. Clearly, he’d seen one too many Hollywood movies. Because things like this simply didn’t happen in real life. That man, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood couldn’t actually be America.   
America was invincible. Everyone knew that. Nothing and no one could ever take down America. He couldn’t die. There was no way. And all this stuff about Canada? He didn’t believe that either. He couldn’t. Because…as much as he liked to act carefree and like everything was always a party, he knew perfectly well that Matthew and Arthur were all he really had (other than himself of course.) Being a jokester and a partier and even an ass from time to time kept things lively and fun. It kept away things like sadness, or worry or even fear. It kept him sane when things like a fiscal cliff were drawing near. And so…to see America presented in the way he was…defeated…and not just defeated…but apparently, driven to near madness from grief and violence…it was too much.  
Alfred didn’t know how to function in a stressful environment without jokes or a lighthearted attitude. He’d often felt it was in fact, his job to make sure none of the other countries got too serious about matters either. And if people could just laugh about things and about one another…well…then a future like this…could never…  
“You…” Alfred lifted his head from the thoughts he’d been having as he stood in the room’s doorway. Looking out, he saw the soldier, the one dying in Arthur’s arms staring straight at him. And that one blue eye of his…was heavy…and terrible.  
“You…” he croaked again, licking his bloodied lips. “Don’t…be like…me.” Alfred stared at him, his heart feeling suddenly freezing cold with dread. All the same, it didn’t stop the dying nation from speaking. “You…protect Matthew. You…you must…do what I couldn’t…y…you…you finish the job.”   
Alfred felt his limbs grow cold along with his heart. His blue eyes widened with the weight of the request that was suddenly laid upon him. The burden was sudden and heavy and dooming. And it terrified him. He felt himself start to tremble. The stranger before him locked eyes with him and for a moment, he felt the connection. There was no denying it now. There was no way in heaven or hell that this man wasn’t him. Alfred knew that it was. He could see the reflection of himself in his eyes. He could see the ghost that he once was. And that, was perhaps, the most terrifying thing of all.   
The light in the soldier’s eyes started to fade. He lay his head back down in Arthur’s arms. Staring up at the ceiling, it became clear that he was now looking at something far beyond the house they were all in, and ever farther still than just America the country, or even the world. With the last of his life, he grabbed onto Matthew with his good hand. He gripped him, almost desperately. But it only lasted a second. For after that, his hand fell slack along with the rest of his body. And as soon as he was gone and had finally given up the fight, he relaxed and fell limply in his families arms.


	5. My Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a grim warning from the future Alfred has sworn to be the hero and make sure that future never comes to pass, but he had to figure out where to start. Matthew is reeling from what he's just witnessed.

Chapter 5  
My Brother

For several long, torturous seconds, it was silent. The weight of such silence weighed on them all. Only the soft ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard, and the slight ‘plip’ ‘plip’ of the dead man’s blood which still dripped to the carpeted floor.  
But then a new sound was introduced to the room. The remaining America suddenly started breathing quickly, and deeply. He took in air viciously through his teeth. And only a few seconds later, he was hyperventilating. Covered in a cold sweat, he stared at his own body, lying dead in his families arms. His body shuddered, and a second later, he opened his mouth and screamed.   
Horrified beyond anything he ever imagined, it was all he could really do. It shattered the silence of the moment, giving voice to something everyone in the room was feeling. His scream lasted several seconds before dying away. Once it did, he stood frozen for only a few seconds more, staring at his own demise.   
But then, with a trembling hand, he reached in beneath his jacket. And pulling it out, he had a gun firmly gripped in his palm. Lifting it, he aimed it at Prussia who was standing just as shocked as everyone else on the other side of the room. But although America had drawn a weapon, it was clear that he was completely torn about what it was he should do. Holding the grip with both palms to try and steady his sight, the gun still shivered and trembled along with the rest of him. All the same, he kept the muzzle pointed at the foreign country, sucking air in hysterically through his teeth. 

Prussia turned to stare wide eyed at America. He had nothing to say. His eyes were huge and haunted. He didn’t believe the things the dead America had said. How could he? Why would he betray Matthew? Gilbert raised his hands into the air in an ‘I surrender’ pose and stayed that way. He didn’t try to run. He was in too much denial for that. He had no reason to run.  
“The awezome me would never do that! I love Matthew!” He announced to the room.  
Britain held the body of his son and he held onto Matthew as well, but things had to be done. Matthew was clutching his dead brother and sobbing into his body. Of course the chap would be overwhelmed. Who could describe this kind of shitty day? When you found out your boyfriend of 4 hours would ultimately betray and kill you. Watching a future version of your brother die? It was inconceivable. As much as a part of Britain was telepathically willing Alfred to simply pull the trigger another part of him was thinking better of it.  
Germany could take a lot of things, but Arthur was pretty sure if they sent Gilbert home beaten to a pulp and shot full of holes inside of a box for a crime he had yet to commit there would be hell to pay. Germany loved his older brother like Matthew and Alfred loved each other. As such they couldn’t outright shoot the damned albino. They would quickly have a war on their hands, and they’d be at fault. No one believed in black magic anymore. No one would believe this story. They would think America had simply murdered Prussia for no good reason in cold blood.  
“Alfred.” Britain’s voice cracked on the word.  
He was somewhat afraid his living son would vanish. He also didn’t want to startle the terrified country by speaking too loudly or by saying the wrong thing. Britain pushed himself onward through his emotions,   
“Alfred. Put the gun down. Listen to me, love. Put it down.” He unwrapped his arm from the dead America and reached out towards the living Alfred. God. He thought as he saw his blood covered hands. It was all over him now, and Matthew who was clutching his dead brother was covered in it as well.  
“Alfred. Put the gun down.” Britain said gently, but firmly.  
Before another word could be uttered Alfred was startled out of his thoughts as another familiar voice came from the hallway outside the room and from behind Alfred.   
France had received a text the previous day from his son. Matthew had texted him asking about opinions on love. When the French man had heard that Matthew, Arthur, Alfred, and Gilbert where under one roof he couldn’t wait to come to the house party. He had expected to argue with Britain, harass America, tease Matthew on love, and goof off with his old friend. He never expected to find America’s home filled with bullet holes. He was shocked by the state of the hallway. He had heard Matthew wailing from outside and had run in to find this…this hell.  
He could see America standing in the doorway of a room where he could hear Matthew crying and Arthur speaking. The Frenchman dropped the wine he’d brought to the floor as he stared at Alfred’s back. He could tell Alfred had a gun. He quickly called out,   
“Oh mon Dieu. Ce qui s'est passé en Amérique?” (Oh my God. What has happened America?)  
Then he quickly called out to Arthur who he had heard, but not seen. “Angleterre! (Britain) What is happening?” He called out loud since he couldn’t see Britain. What had happened here?   
"Amerique." France took a step towards the super power he held his hand out towards him, "What are you doing?"

America, rightfully so, was rather unsteady at the moment. Watching himself die, and hearing about a future so horrific, he wouldn’t have even dreamed Hell could be so wretched, made him desperate to prevent any of it from taking place. Before the America from the future had arrived, Alfred had just been telling Matthew that he’d take care of him, protect him. That if Gilbert ever did anything to upset him, he’d do what any good big brother would do, and he’d go beat him senseless. But…he never imagined something like this. He never could have imagined kidnapping, torture, bombings, death… Alfred had never imagined that anything at all could ever really, truly happen to either Canada or America.   
Both countries were so strong. He’d always had faith that they could survive anything. No election, no hurricane, no revolution or civil war or great depression or anything had ever taken the brothers down. They were young as far as countries went…but both had participated in several wars. A few too many in fact…for both of their tastes. But…they had always survived. Together. To see it all crumble before him, to see himself die, to hear of Matthew dying…it was too much.   
And so, hands shaking, he kept his gun fixated on Prussia. An older version of himself had given him specific instructions. And that older version of America was so intense, so much more intimidating than Alfred ever thought he could be…he felt compelled to do as he wished. He’d died for this. He’d sacrificed himself for this, so that everyone else might live. That America…even though only a few years older…had seemed so much stronger, so much wiser…so much more than what he was now. Alfred couldn’t help but to think he had to have known what he was doing. If this was the only way…and he passed that responsibility onto him…then…   
“Alfred. Put the gun down.” Came the soft, familiar voice from his left. “Listen to me, love. Put it down.” America inhaled deeply, taking in a shuddered, frightened breath. He wanted to listen to Arthur. He really did. But…he couldn’t erase the intensity he’d felt when he’d locked eyes with America. He couldn’t erase that feeling of desperation he’d felt from him. He was vaguely aware that Britain was carefully and slowly approaching him, but he dared not tear his gaze away from Prussia.  
“Alfred. Put the gun down.” Britain said gently, but firmly. America trembled in place, torn between shooting Prussia, and causing a war that he knew would come with Germany…or letting him live and then possibly losing Matt.  
No! I won’t ever lose Matt like that! Not the way that America described! I won’t ever let that happen! I won’t I won’t! And just as he thought he’d convinced himself to do it, he heard another familiar voice come up from behind him. It was French. And obviously, it belonged to France. Now he was surrounded on both sides by both parents. Although Alfred had always been more attached to Arthur rather than Francis, France was still a big part of his upbringing. He couldn’t help but to hesitate with him suddenly being present.   
"Amerique." France took a step towards the super power he held his hand out towards him, "What are you doing?"  
Since he was approaching from behind, America couldn’t see his outstretched hand. Covered in sweat, he still didn’t move, torn between extreme courses of action. It wasn’t until France gently placed a hand on his shoulder that he flinched at the sudden contact. With a startled cry, he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the gun went off. Thankfully, because he’d flinched, his aim was off and a hole appeared in the wall just a few inches from Prussia’s head. Matthew screamed.   
But as soon as the ringing in his ears started to settle, America knew he couldn’t follow through with it. If he was trying to prevent a war…was starting one really the answer? And…Matthew. He looked to him. He looked so terrified, hunched over America’s body. He was crying…and covered with blood. Alfred could hardly stand it. And he knew…that if he were to kill Prussia…he certainly could never do it in front of his little bro. He’d been through enough. And as his bog brother…it was his job to protect him.   
Letting out a rush of air, America lowered his gun. Holding it out, he firmly placed it into Arthur’s outstretched hand. Then he simply stood, breathing for a moment to get himself under control. 

Arthur took the gun and quickly put the safety on. Then he shoved the weapon into the loop of his belt. He closed the distance to his son and threw his arms around Alfred squeezing him horrendously tight. He held the slightly larger nation to his chest and took in a shuddering breath. He had to remind himself that his son was still alive.  
Alfred was still absorbing all of the shock too, but even as unbelievable and horrifying as everything was, when Arthur came to him, throwing his arms around him, he seemed to unfreeze a bit.   
Not normally the touchy-feely type, for a moment like this, he could have cared less. He threw his arms around his father, giving him a big, tight, very painful squeeze. He didn’t say a word, and didn’t have to. It was good just to feel his heart beat.   
“I’m fine…” he reassured the older country. After their hug, Britain stepped away from the doorway of the room pulling Alfred with him so France could enter. He looked over his shoulder every now and then keeping an eye on Prussia.  
France stepped into the room his eyes growing large at the sight before him. France looked to Gilbert who was standing off by himself with a bullet hole next to him. Then he looked across the room and down to his blood covered son, and was that America? On the floor? Was he dead?  
“Angleterre?” France said Britain’s name like a question, “Did your black magic have anything to do with this?” France had known Britain all his life. A few boggled up spells had happened within that time. He prayed this was another one of those weird spells acting up because there was such a feeling of horror, dread, and sorrow in the room that was almost palpable. Seeing America dead on the floor was too disturbing to put into words.  
“Get Matthew.” Britain said to his older brother, “We need to get them out of here. We can take them to Alfred’s room, but for God’s sake keep them together and keep Prussia away.” Arthur didn’t want to let either nation out of his sight or to separate them in anyway. Arthur had a feeling that getting Matthew away from his dead brother would be close to impossible, but it had to be done.   
France had gone to his blood covered son in horror. He spoke in French and tried to calm Matthew out of his hysterics, but he eventually had to pull Matthew away from his dead brother kicking and screaming. The smaller of the two twins could put up a hell of a fight. France kept talking to Matthew as he tried to pull him away. Eventually he said something with a very firm tone and reached out grabbing Matthew. He wasn’t trying to be mean, but he did have to force his son to turn away from the dead body on the floor and look at his living brother in the doorway. Matthew stared at normal Alfred with a hollow look. His eyes were dull from shock and sorrow. The shock to his system was making him mostly numb, but Matthew did see Alfred standing. Alive. Unhurt.   
It only took a moment before Matthew tore away from his father. He pushed himself up off the floor and took a very shaky step towards his brother. His body trembled uncontrollably as adrenaline started to drain from his system. He had barely taken a few steps when everything went black. The shock pushed him over the edge and he hit the floor, completely unconscious. Nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for a moment like this, and it was far too much for the kind hearted nation.   
“Matthieu!” France cried and went to move towards his son.  
Prussia went to step towards his fallen boyfriend as well a look of worry etched into his face, but Britain quickly pulled America’s gun from his belt. He aimed it level at the albino’s head. Unlike his son he didn’t shake in the least. Britain had been a pirate, an executioner, and led one too many dark events in his time to let his fear show through here.   
“Do not go anywhere near him you arsehole. I will not miss.” Britain warned.

Alfred was still absorbing all of the shock too, but even as unbelievable and horrifying as everything was, he was in better shape than his brother. He had, unfortunately, suffered a lot more violence over his short life span than Canada had, so perhaps he was a bit more numb to it. Or maybe, he was just that good at pushing upsetting things aside so that he could function when need be. All the same, it didn’t stop the jolt of fear that zipped through his heart when Matthew fainted, and fell to the floor.  
“Matt!” Alfred was at his side in a heartbeat, already horrified that he was somehow hurt, that something had happened. “Bro!” He fell to his knees, then reached out, scooping him up into his strong arms with ease. He cradled him, firmly, holding him to himself possessively.   
His little brother looked horrid. He was smeared with blood. My blood? It was such a strange thing…seeing his own blood, smelling it…but not being injured. Alfred reached out a hand, smoothing Matthew’s tangled hair. He was pale, and sweaty, and looked ill from the shock.   
Looking up, to make sure they were safe, he saw that Arthur had Prussia at bay with his gun. Knowing he had to get Matt out of there, America slowly stood, still keeping an iron grip on his little brother. Then, carefully, he started to back out of the violent room, keeping his eyes on his future enemy. Stepping past France and into the hall, he remained only for a seconds, looking at the room around him, then he turned away and ran back down the hall with his brother.  
He raced down the hall and to the stairwell. There was no way he was ever going to put Matt in a bedroom on the second floor ever again. And for that matter, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever set foot on the second floor himself until the day he died. His mind going further still, he toyed with the idea of demolishing it as he raced down the stairs. And once on the first floor landing, he looked out around himself and immediately felt better.  
This was his house. Normal. So normal looking. Nothing was destroyed. There were no bullet holes, or blood, or crazy dead versions of himself from the future. This was just…his house. And it was so normal in fact that Alfred briefly wondered if he’d just had some strange mind trip, perhaps left over from the 60’s when he used to do drugs.   
But looking down to his brother told him it wasn’t so. His blood was still all over him.   
He can’t wake up with that stuff still on him…he’ll freak again… he thought. And so, quickly, he came to a conclusion about a course of action. Moving a bit more calmly now, but his heart still racing, he stepped over to the nearest bathroom. (His house was huge and he had several.) Stepping inside, he then closed and locked the door behind him…mainly because he was still scared. Calming down a bit, yes…but Prussia was still in his house. And he wanted nothing more than to make sure Matthew was safe.   
“I’ll take care of you little bro. Just like I promised,” he said to him. “I won’t let anything happen to you…that’s what big brothers are for.” Looking around, he spotted his bathmat which was fairly plush and expensive. He bought a lot of expensive things, even considering his country was six trillion dollars in debt. Gently, he crouched down and lay Matt down on top of it. Letting him go so he could examine him, he looked him over quickly. He was fairly dirty, and Alfred knew he couldn’t really clean him up whilst saving his pajamas. But…of course…he didn’t have a change of clothes for him in here.   
Well I can’t leave him like this… Coming to another quick conclusion, America decided to remove his clothes and clean him up anyway. He was his brother and they’d grown up taking baths together. It was no big deal. Besides…he knew if positions were reversed, Matt would do the same for him, and no one else (other than maybe Arthur) would have been acceptable.  
Twenty minutes or so later, Canada was clean and fully covered in a soft robe which Alfred had found in the linen closet. He’d wrapped him up tightly, then proceeded to sit down on the floor, pressing his back into the corner by the tub. He’d scooped Matthew back up into his arms and was now clutching him possessively all over again with his original iron grip.   
The plan had been to leave the bathroom and take him to one of the downstairs guest rooms where he could rest comfortably in a bed…but now…the idea of leaving the bathroom at all seemed so dangerous. Alfred didn’t know where Prussia was at the moment. And he found himself suddenly very worried about both of his fathers.   
Prussia was just a ghost nation right? He couldn’t hurt Britain or France…right? But there was suddenly so much doubt and fear. Alfred never had imagined a world were America could be taken down after all. And yet…  
He held Matthew to himself all the tighter.   
“I’ll keep you safe bro,” he said again. “I’m right here, and I’m fine. Please wake up.” He really, really wanted Matthew to wake up. He wanted to see his eyes open and hear his shy, timid, voice. It was the only way he’d know he was really all right. He wanted to reassure him of everything. He wanted to show him that he was alive and well and whole. And once Matt saw how alive and strong he still was, he’d feel safe, right? America was certain he could keep him safe. The other Alfred from the future was wrong. He must have done something crazy and stupid to have let something so awful happen. Well that’s not gunna be me! Alfred thought. I’ll never let Matt outta my sight! 

Britain held the gun on Prussia for much longer than was needed. He had to work past his rage in order to take the gun off of the albino. He held the gun at his side, but Arthur kept it armed in his hand for security. Britain had filled France in on everything. He recounted everything in great detail while Prussia stayed still and silent something that a few hours ago France would have thought was impossible for the albino.   
In the end France covered the future America’s body with a sheet. France wanted this future America to be lain to rest with proper honors. Seeing as Britain was busy glaring at Prussia, France decided it would be best if he laid the body on a bed until they could hold a proper funeral.   
Eventually France took charge of Prussia. They couldn’t have Prussia anywhere near anything or anyone at the moment. Not wanting to stay in the tomb France and Gilbert went downstairs and to a different room all together. Francis and Gilbert were friends, but France would never allow harm to come to his son. Not even from his old world friend. With France guarding Prussia, Britain felt it was safe and went after his two sons. He needed to see them. So he searched the house until he came across a closed and locked bathroom door.

Downstairs in the bathroom Matthew was starting to come around. He felt strong, warm arms wrap around his body. Matthew could tell that it was Alfred before he heard his brother’s voice say, “I’ll keep you safe bro.”   
Alfred’s voice sounded slower and much quieter than the way he normally spoke. It also sounded more sincere. In fact Matthew had never heard his brother sound so sincere. Matthew’s head was fuzzy, but he did feel safe and warm. The entire trauma from upstairs was pushed into one of the far crevices of his mind and he was confused, “I’m right here, and I’m fine. Please wake up?”  
Why does he sound like that? Matthew thought to himself.  
Pushing passed the fog in his head Canada whispered.  
“Al…”. His quiet voice was also hoarse from all the abuse it had been suffering. He opened his eyes slowly. They were red from crying, and slightly hazy from the shock he’d experienced, but he would recover.   
Matthew reached up grabbing a hold of his brother. Alfred was right there and suddenly seeing this Alfred’s face made his memories resurface. He remembered the other America. He quickly put his hand on Alfred’s face. His fingers traced along Alfred’s head. His brother had hair, and two eyes, his skin was a normal color, he was slightly larger from eating one too many burgers, and there was no hint of injury. Matthew could feel, touch, and talk to his brother. Alfred wasn’t dead.   
Matthew’s blue eyes went to examine his own hand. It was clean. There was no blood. Was that all a dream? Please say it had all been a dream. Then he looked around. He was in a bathrobe on the floor in his brother’s bathroom. His eyes landed on his old, bloody pile of clothes that were discarded in the trash bin. He felt his heart rate pick up as he pushed his feet on the tile of the bathroom and pushed himself back against his brother. He grabbed a hand full of Alfred’s hair. He wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he just wanted to keep a hold of him and it was the only thing he could clutch.  
“A-A-Alf-Alfred” He stuttered horridly on his brother’s name. “That wa- was- that was a dream. It was a dream right. I hi-hit my head. Gilbert hit me in the head a few days a-ago. This is second impact syndrome. Right? O-or I’m crazy, right?” He squeezed Alfred’s hair tighter as the tears started to come back to his eyes.   
A part of him was relieved. Oh so relieved. His brother was there with him. Alfred was alive, but all that had happened. All that future America had said came flooding back to him and it hurt. His second hand went to his chest clutching the fabric of the bathrobe. It really hurt. He bit his bottom lip as tears started to reappear in his eyes. He never knew his heart could hurt this much and still keep beating.

Alfred was so incredibly relieved when Matthew started to wake up, so relieved when he said his name, and so relieved when he saw his indigo colored eyes start to open.  
“Bro,” he said happily, his usual smile returning. But that was until Matthew fully came around, and suddenly seemed very upset and scared all over again. And then he grabbed onto Alfred’s golden hair.  
“A-Ah! Oww! Ouch! Dude! I-stop!” But he in fact grabbed on even tighter still. Alfred, not daring to ever let him go in the state he was in, and also needing to keep a firm hold onto his brother for his own sanity, instead just tilted his head down to try and relieve some of the pressure. Canada pulled his head down further still until he was stuck, crouched against his bathroom wall.  
Alfred hissed in pain, and tears sprang into his eyes from the sting of it, but he didn’t try to pull out of Matthews grasp. He knew he needed him.  
“M-Matt, man…dude! Ouch!” Holding onto his brother in what he hoped was a comforting way, despite the abuse he was suffering, he tried to figure out a way to calm him down.  
“Bro, it wasn’t a dream. We had a pretty fucked up day. But…it’s ok! Really. Ya know why? Because I’m right here. And if I’m here, then…all that future stuff hasn’t happened yet. None of that stuff that that me from the future talked about is ever gunna happen. Ok? I’m not that guy. That guy wasn’t me. I’m here and I’m fine and I’m alive and strong and as awesome as always!” He tried to flash a smile through his wince.   
“I’m not like that guy. I’m going to protect you and keep you safe. I’m your big bro man! That’s what big bro’s are for. Yeah? So you don’t have to worry about any of that crazy stuff that just happened. Ok?” He winced again, hissing from the pain.  
“…uh…dude. If you’re feeling better…could you…let go of my hair? It really hurts!”

Matthew slowly told his hand to let go of Alfred’s hair. He sniffed once and brought his second hand down to grab at the cloth of the bath robe. He took in a shaky breath, but then thought about what his brother was saying. None of it was a dream. So he had to face the facts of what his future brother had said.  
At least his brother seemed to be gaining some semblance of normalcy again. Alfred was starting to talk like he always had, with that Hero complex. Well at least he didn’t have to worry about his brother. That was one weight off of his chest.  
Matthew also had to face the mind numbing facts about his boyfriend. Of all the things his future brother had said future America would have had no way of knowing that he’d already been too late to keep certain things from happening.   
Matthew had already let Gilbert into his heart. He’d been hanging out with the albino nation for a year or so now. He wouldn’t have kept seeing him in all that time if he hadn’t enjoyed it. It had been just that morning when Matthew realized how much he enjoyed the albino’s company. When Gilbert said he would leave and never come back if Matthew wanted that. Well he didn’t want that. He had said he didn’t want that, but here it was being thrown back in his face like a bucket of ice water. It made his insides squirm and his heart break to hear that someone he cared about had betrayed him in such a way. Someone he loved had ultimately killed him.   
He loved his family to be sure. He’d die for any of his family members, but he was like the outsider even within his family. They were all outgoing, vibrant, and spent a lot of time together and with others. In all honesty Alfred generally went to Arthur more than he came to Matthew. Matthew had finally found someone who he fit with. Someone who always knew his name, damn it! Someone who never treated him like he was invisible! Someone who had never tried to take over his nation by burning down his parliament building, FUCK! Matthew reached up grabbing his own pounding head.  
“What am I supposed to do?” He asked the air. He wasn’t speaking to Alfred, but he was sure his brother would have an answer.  
Luckily Alfred didn’t have time to answer because Britain started knocking on the bathroom door.  
“Alfred. Matthew. Are you in there?” He tried the doorknob, but it was locked, “Can you open the door please?”

“Uhh…” Alfred mumbled, not really sure what to say to either Britain or Matthew. He rubbed his scalp, which had finally been released, but was still pounding. “Dude…you messed my amber waves of grain…”   
He rubbed it just a bit more, then tried to figure out what he should do. He looked to Canada. He was still so upset. Alfred wanted to fix it and make it better for him…but…had no idea what to tell him. Matthew had that expression on again. The one he wore earlier in the day that let Alfred know for sure that he had true feelings for Prussia.   
“Well shit,” he mumbled. Then they couldn’t just kick Prussia to the curb like he wanted? “Uhh…umm…well…we could…uh…” Britain knocked on the door a second time, this time much more insistently. Alfred sighed heavily.  
“Oh my God keep your pants on Arty!” He called. America’s main concern was still his little brother. “Matt, are you ready to face mom? I could keep you in here longer if you need me to.” He grinned mischievously, he was always happy to tease Britain a little bit. And in all honestly, if the mood didn’t lighten up soon…well…Alfred didn’t know how to handle such tense situations otherwise. 

Britain was tired of waiting. With a few lock-picking moves on the other side of the door Britain let himself into the bathroom. As he pushed the door open he mumbled something about cheap modern locks. Then he stepped into the bathroom and studied his two former colonies. America looked to be coming around, but Canada still seemed lost.  
Arthur let out a heavy sigh and came to kneel in front of the two. He reached out putting his hand on Matthew’s head, “There we are. You will be ok, love. ” He gently set his hand in Matthew’s hair and ruffled it up.  
“Come on you two. Let’s get out of here and go to the living room. France is watching the albino bastard. We won’t see him.” He gently ran his hand through Matthew’s hair, but he recognized the look on the Northern twins face, “Oh God…. This is a disaster. Who am I kidding? ” Britain stared at America. His thick eyebrows furrowing together, “What did you say to him?” 

Alfred lifted his eyes to Arthur from his spot on his bathroom floor.  
“I told him…everything would be fine,” he answered truthfully. “That I’m right here, I’m fine. And none of that future stuff has happened yet. So…and I’ll protect him…” But it had been a rather touching moment with his little brother, and it was suddenly hard to repeat to his father figure without feeling embarrassed. Cheeks pinkening just a tad, he quickly moved to get up.   
“Well whatever. All we have to do is make sure Prussia doesn’t go ape shit right?” Having never let go of Matt, Alfred stood up, whilst holding onto his shoulders. He helped him to his feet, but even then wouldn’t release him. It was clear that even though he may have been ‘talking the talk’ as he usually did, his actions were somewhat different from what they once were.   
“Bro, you wanna sit on the couch or something? You need some coffee?” 

“None of that horrible imported stuff you bought from Columbia.” Britain interjected, “I’m sure he wants tea anyway.” Britain stood up as well and walked with the two brothers to the living room.  
Canada didn’t rightly care where he went. He walked with Alfred to the living room and sat down on the much more comfy couch. Alfred sat on one side and Arthur on the other. Matthew felt a bit odd being the center of attention, and he remained silent once he was on the couch. Britain leaned forward looking over at Matthew.  
“Canada. You’ve been here for about a week now. How much longer until you have to go back home?” Canada didn’t respond. In fact he didn’t do anything until Britain put his hand on his shoulder drawing him back out of his thoughts. Canada blinked and looked over at his second father.  
“I… uh…. My boss was yelling at me last night. I need to leave by tomorrow. I have to be back working the day after. I can get my mind off of all this stuff at least.” He reached up running his hand through his hair to get it back the way he wanted it.  
Britain nodded, “We should call Germany to come escort Prussia home. I want him to be watched all the way back. America. Are you ok with that? We should explain the situation openly. I believe we can trust Ludwig to watch his brother.”

America nodded firmly. He felt like they could trust Germany too. The country was a lot more levelheaded in this day and age then he used to be. Besides, if what future America said was right, then it meant Germany really had no idea anything was going on until much later after Canada had been taken over. If that was the case, Alfred imagined Germany would want to stop his brother from ever doing something so drastic. No country wanted to piss of America, England, and France all in one go. They were rather formidable (well maybe not France...) Another reason America was having a hard time ever believing they could lose a war.  
“Yeah,” he agreed. “He’d probably help us keep an eye on that crazy psycho.” Then he glanced at Canada once more. “If Matt has to go back home so soon…then I’m going with him.” 

Britain blinked at Alfred’s response, “You have been sick for a week now. We have all been here for it. America you cannot afford to skip out on your work. Your boss will have your arse.”  
“It’s ok, Al.” Canada turned to his brother and smiled in a sad, broken way. He was obviously still upset by his boyfriend’s future betrayal, “Don’t worry, Al. I’ll be fine.” He laughed a bit, “You haven’t been to my house all year.” Then Canada tried to remember the last time Alfred had come by his home. And why had he come? America always complained Canada’s home was too small and cold and dull and too Canadian. When was the last time then? Canada shrugged his shoulders.  
“Now it’s getting close to winter. You hate the cold and you’ll complain the whole time.”

“I don’t care about all that,” America objected, then quickly crossed his arms over his chest. “You seriously think I’m gunna let you just…go home and disappear into that ice land of yours after the story we just heard? Dude, no. Who do you take me for, hmm? You think my promises aren’t serious? I just told you, I’m going to protect you. My boss’ll just have to get along without me for a little while.” And man, if there was ever a time that America seemed serious, it was now.

Britain’s green eyes grew larger. This was not good. America was a lot of things, but perhaps one of his worst qualities was his damn stubborn streak. Britain would have to hope that after being with his brother for a few days America would come home.  
Canada stared at his brother. He blinked a few times and then let a genuine smile take over his face.  
“I know Alfred. I know you’ll protect me. I have never doubted you.” He smirked, “Except that one time, but I forgave you for that a long time ago.” He reached out and gently punched his brother on his shoulder. Then slowly he stood up on his own two feet, “I’m thirsty. I’ll go make tea for everybody.”  
“Mattieu.” France came walking down the hall. Prussia wasn’t with him, but France said something to his son in a language that Alfred and Britain couldn’t understand.  
“Papa. Non.” Matthew rolled his eyes and shot a look his first fathers way that said he wasn’t amused.  
“What are you saying to him, FROG? Aren’t you supposed to be watching someone?” Britain shot a glare at France.

America was immediately on his feet, his blue eyes wide.  
“Where the hell is that freak?” He asked, his voice a bit higher in pitch than it should have been, betraying the fact that perhaps he was still a bit more shaken than he was letting on. Not knowing where Prussia had gone to, he instead ran back over to his brother’s side, standing by him protectively once more.   
“I’ll come with you to make that tea, bro,” he said. “Arty, why don’t you give Ludwig a buzz? Francis…do whatever the hell you want…”

France came over to his wavy haired son and stood in front of him. Once again France was talking in that abominable language Alfred couldn’t follow.  
“Papa…. I don’t want to talk to Gilbert right now…. Please… Tell him I’m thinking, but I’m not angry. Just really confused. Tell him we can talk later.” Matthew said quietly under his breath. France understood. He reached out and patted Matthew’s head then went back off down the hallway.  
Britain just stared at them from his place on the couch, but he didn’t say anything. Finally he got up and left for the phone. He couldn’t keep Prussia and Canada apart. In truth letting the two talk while the entire family was here was probably for the best so Britain didn’t interfere.   
Britain picked up the phone and was soon dialing the German nation across the sea. How to start this conversation? Can you please come pick up your Prussian?


	6. Germany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The disasters keep adding up, but what will happen when America invites Germany to his home to come pick up Prussia?

Chapter 6  
Germany

The phone range, once, twice, three times, and then,  
“Ciao! Questo è Feliciano! Hai raggiunto casa della Germania! Come posso rendere il vostro giorno meraviglioso?” It was clearly Italy’s voice. The greeting came way to fast, and way too high pitched to be anyone else. Even if Arthur could understand Italian, he still wouldn’t have been able to understand anything Feliciano had just said. 

Britain’s head hurt a little bit. He would surely need a drink after this day, “Italy. This is Britain. This is a very important call.” Britain felt like he needed to stress that to the care free nation, “Is Germany there? Prussia is here and I need Germany to come and get him.” Then Britain smacked himself in the head, “Feliciano can I speak with Ludwig. I have Gilbert here.”

“Ve! Oooh! You have Gilbert? We’ve been-a lookin’ everywhere for ‘im! Germany will be so a-happy when I-a-tell-a him the great news! Hold on! I’ll go-and-a-getta Ludwig!” The sound of the phone being put down could be heard, and then off into the distance Arthur could hear Italy calling out “Germaniaaaaaah! Germaniaaaaahhhhh!”   
There was a few second of silence, but then the loud, high pitched voice rose back up in the background, and this time, a much deeper one followed it. The two voices approached together.   
“Ma è davvero importante!”  
“Ich habe dir gesagt, mich nicht stören!”  
“Ma la Germania!”  
There was a bunch of clattering and then the phone was picked up again.  
“Vhat is it? Who is dis? Dis had better be good!” Clearly Arthur had finally gotten the correct person on the phone.

“Oh thank God you are there!” Britain said with an exasperated sigh. At least this had gone well, “This is Britain, Germany. Listen there has been some…circumstances over here and I need you to come and get Gilbert. He is ok, but you have to come get him. Prussia is here at America’s home.”

“Vhat?!” Germany held the phone to his ear a bit more tightly, while fending Italy off with his other hand as Italy buzzed around him like some sort of horse fly. He’d been driving himself mad looking for the AWOL country all week long. Prussia had simply up and disappeared over a week ago. Always afraid of the worst, and always thinking of the worst possible scenario, Germany had half been convinced that he’d been killed. But now, to hear that he’d been at America’s house the entire time…  
“Vhat on earth ‘as he been doing over dere for such a ‘ong time? He didn’t go over der just to challenge Amerika to avother drinking contest...did he?” He sighed heavily, his shoulders sinking. “Imbicile...”  
“Germania! Germania! What is it?! What’s-a-happening? Tell me! Tellmetellmetellme!”  
“Feliciano vould you please...shut da hell up? I’m tryink to listen!”

Britain rolled his eyes. The poor German, Britain thought to himself. He kept himself on track though and in a monotone voice said, “Prussia was not always here. He was shacking up with Canada or so it would seem. Then they came here to America’s house and we caught them snogging upstairs.”

Ludwig clutched his phone a bit more tightly. Had he heard correctly? Gilbert had been ‘shaking up’ with Canada? Wait…at America’s house? Panic immediately set in. If this had been going on at America’s house…and America caught Gilbert sleeping with Canada then…what would the super power do? Germany could easily imagine him getting infuriated and trying to punch a few holes in Gilbert with his ever present arsenal of guns.   
“Ach Du Lieber…” Ludwing mumbled. For just a second, he allowed himself to face-palm. Of course, living with Italy, he often times ended up doing this more frequently than he would have liked.   
“Germania! Germania! What is it? What? What? What’s happening? Why won’t you-a-tell-a me!” Ludwig swatted absent mindedly at the smaller country. Then, licking his lips, which had become dry, he gathered himself and spoke back into the receiver. Clearing his voice, he said,  
“Gilbert...‘as he been...murdered by Amerika?”  
“Dio mio!” Italy shrieked. “Murdered? Gilbert nooo!”   
“Felicio, for da last time, stoppen!” 

“Well it was an interesting talk America and Prussia had. It was also a bit one sided, but it would seem Canada fancies the snogging. Unfortunately it seems we are all stuck. France is watching Prussia now so he is fine. Well as fine as he can be with France. You need to come get him though. Something else happened that I cannot talk about over the phone. We need to tell you something even more serious. Please come as fast as possible, and I promise as an English gentleman that your brother will be ok until you get here.”

“Ze Awezome me is not a prisoner, damnit! Iv donz nothing wrong! Birdie! I want to talk to you! Come out!“ Prussia was screaming from down the hallway of America’s home.  
Britain turned from his phone conversation to the hallway and then back to his phone conversation.  
“But the quicker you get here the better. In fact if you could get on a concord jet and be here by tonight that would be marvelous. I have to go. This could get ugly.”  
“...Iz that Wes? I want to speakz to Wes!” The drunken Prussian stumbled down the hall.  
“FROG! Did you give him booze?” France laughed.  
“I figured it would be good for his nerves. He is having a tough time too.”  
“Damn you Frog!” Then Britain hung up the phone.

Ludwig was left with a dial tone on the other end of the phone. For a few seconds, he just stood there in something close to shock. Vhat de hell ‘as happened? Sighing heavily, he decided he’d better just travel to America’s house...even though that was something he couldn’t even remember if he’d ever done before. They hadn’t exactly fought together on the same side of the same wars. Already stressed he ran a hand over his slicked blonde hair.   
“Alvright...Feliciano...I’ve got to travel to Amerika’s hawse. You stay ‘ere and stay ount of trouble.”   
“Awww no Germania! Don’t-a-leave me ‘ere all alone! I want-to-a come with you, ve? I could-a-keep you company! And we could-a-have-a so much fun together! It will be just-a- like-a vacation!”  
“Nein! Dis is noughink like a vacation! Dis is a serious matter I ‘ave to attend to! Gilbert’s very life may hang in de balance! Unt I don’t need you screwing dis thing up! If you come along, you’ll end up getting Gilbert killed!” Italy’s face dropped as the puppy eyes quickly, and effectively took over.  
“Aw, Germania, please? Please don’t a leave me behind? Ve? Please? Please? I want-ta to-a come-a!”   
“Nein!”  
“Please?”  
“Nein! Now go upstairs or I vill hit you!” Sulking, Italy finally did as told. With the walk of sadness he gloomily moved toward the stairwell. Putting one foot on the landing, head down, he paused just before going up. Looking out and back at Germany, he said,  
“You’ll-a...at least miss-a-me? Won’t you Germania?” Germany sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world were resting solely on his shoulders and no one else’s. He knew he had to say yes, or Italy would never shut the fuck up and go upstairs!   
“Ja...now go avay!!!”  
“YAAAY! Germania said he’d miss meeeee! Ve!” Finally, he turned and ran up the stairs like a child, clomping and making all sorts of noise. Germany sighed heavily all over again. It was time to pack.

Back at America’s house, Alfred had Matthew in the kitchen and he was trying to take care of him and make him feel more relaxed. He’d made some coffee (mostly for himself since Canada didn’t like it much) but he’d also made some tea and some hot cocoa. Matt couldn’t seem to make decisions at the moment and didn’t seem like he knew what he wanted, so Alfred was prepared to just bring him everything.  
But it wasn’t long before he heard Prussia yelling like a drunken idiot from down the hall. Alfred had Matthew seated at the small kitchenette table he had by the window, but as soon as the noise started up, he got up and out of his seat.  
“Dude, stay here, I’ve got this.” Stepping up to the kitchen doorway, he put himself in its frame, blocking the entranceway entirely. And there he stayed, feet planted like a tank. Lifting his eyes, he quickly shot a glare of death down to the albino country’s way.  
“Dude, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn right back around and leave Matt alone! He’s not ready to talk to you right now man. And not to mention, I’m kinda pissed about things too! So unless you want a good punch in the face you can turn your ass back around!” 

The chain of command seemed to have broken down, or one might have said it had returned to normal. France and Britain, like always, stood bickering about the situation while Prussia drunkenly stood in the hallway.  
“Lizen boy!” Prussia pointed his finger America’s way, but he didn’t approach further. It wavered a bit in his drunken state, “This has nothing to do wid you! He’s my boyfriend! He zaid zo ‘emself! I havz done nuting wrong! I donz care what that future you said! I am awzome, zo ztuff it! Matthew! Do you hear me! I wanz to talkz! Pleaze!” Prussia shouted across the room as loudly as he could.

Meanwhile Brtian and France seemed to be carrying on an argument of their own.  
“You arse! You bloody arse! You got him fall down drunk! Where did you even get the liquor from?”  
“Now. Now. Angleterre. Is good for mon petite Matthieu. I can tell mon petite likes my inebriated friend here. Letting them talk will not hurt.”  
“It’s too early! You saw upstairs! Are you daft!” Britain said loudly.  
“The longer this lingerz on the more Matthieu will be suffering. We are all here. It is ok to let them talk. Prussia cannot hurt mon petite Matthieu. What’s the worst that could happen?”  
“Qu'est-ce que Papa.” (What the hell, Papa) Matthew groaned from inside the kitchen. He let his face fall into his open palms.

And just like that, things seemed to go back to normal. America fumed, then began rolling up his sleeves.  
“Watch out buddy! I’ve been itching for a reason to kick your ass! And you’re just giving me one!” Marching down the hall, the two countries appeared as if they were going to go at it all over again for the third time that week; just like in the manner they’d met at the bar, and just like in Matthew’s bedroom just before the catastrophe. In a way, it could have even been relieving for poor Canada. Because now, everyone was acting the way they normally did.   
“You wanna go, bro? And why the hell are you so drunk? Did you steal my expensive booze?”

“Yorz cheap azz booze is pathetic!” Prussia yelled back, “I canz barely tellz itz alcohol!”  
Just like that Prussia and America were at it again.  
The group somehow managed to survive the day. France had given Gilbert more than a fair share of America’s liquor cabinet by the time night rolled around. By then Britain had locked the two of them up in a guest room where they sang, drank, and forgot their woes.  
Canada spent most of the day staring off into space. He seemed to be continually focusing on all the problems and decisions at hand, but seeing those around him return to normal was lifting his spirits. He could hear Francis and Gilbert singing down the hall. He could also hear Britain banging on the locked door that lead to where they were demanding they shut up.  
Matthew let a smile back onto his face as he looked across the couch and to his brother, “Alfred. You sure do have a lot of weird movies.” He said as he reached out taking a hand full of popcorn. It seemed his brother’s answer to this day had been to marathon some of his Hollywood movies and eat junk food. This time Canada happily sat with his brother and watched the film even if he thought the plot was pretty ridiculous. It was relaxing to just sit and relax over a movie with family. They really couldn’t do much more until Ludwig came.

“Yeah well, nothing’s weirder than Francis’s movies. Actually, Arthur’s are pretty terrible too, now that I think of it. Man. How did we survive growing up over there?” Alfred was sporting a nice bruise just under his eye where he’d been punched in the face. But Gilbert had an even bigger bruise…a black eye.   
But after things had settled down, Alfred really enjoyed spending time with his brother. Things seemed a lot more normal even after just a few hours…but…Alfred hadn’t forgotten the day’s events. And he knew Matthew hadn’t either. He knew he was still worried. And well…America finally seemed to be able to worry about something now too.   
“I know mom doesn’t want me to go…but…I’m going with you back to your house, little bro,” he said. He didn’t move his eyes from off the screen as the action movie before them played and he didn’t look Matt’s way. But all the same, Canada would be able to see how dead set Alfred was on keeping his word. And as carefree and as normal as he’d been acting the past few hours, in that moment, sitting in the dark with the glow of the TV shining across his eyes, Matthew could see how truly worried Alfred was. He was just hiding it. The way he always did when he was really upset about something. He’d never been the type to wear his emotions out on his sleeve.  
Before Canada could answer, a loud, forceful knock came to the front door. The twins looked to it, and Alfred moved to get up.  
“That must be Germany. He’s right on time. Punctual dude.” Rising to his feet America shouted down the hall. “YO! ARTY! GERMANY’S HERE!” Poor Canada had to cover his ears. Stepping up to his front door, America pulled it open. And there, standing in the light of his front porch, the night beyond him, was the European nation. Wearing his usual uniform, and his face as chiseled and as pale as usual, he gave a brisk, curt nod America’s way.  
“Zank you for havink me. Sorry for zee trouble Gilbert ‘as cauzed. I vill spend only vone night, no more, zen ve shall be on our vay.” He was straight to the point, as always, and clearly he wasn’t planning on making it any longer of a trip than need be. In fact, he really didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.   
“Germany, dude, it’s fine. We’ve got a lot to talk about, come on in.” Leaving the door open, Alfred stepped back inside.   
Ludwig blinked in confusion. It wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. America hadn’t made any jokes, or slapped him on the back, or talked about possibly partying now that they had another country at his house. Actually, Ludwig couldn’t remember if there were ever more than three countries at his house without there being a party.   
He seemz a little more docile zen usual… he thought. He certainly hadn’t been as abrasive as he usually was at the world meetings. Concern started to creep its way into the edges of Germany’s mind. Vhat exactly ‘as happened ‘ere? He thought. Stepping inside, his luggage wheeling behind him, he moved into the living room, shutting the door at his back. And once inside, he found the room dark. Canada and America had clearly been watching a movie together with the lights off, but Ludwig didn’t see Britain, France or Gilbert anywhere.  
His gut told him something big had gone down. Britain certainly had been upset enough on the phone. And he could think of very little that would make America so…tolerable.   
“Vhere is Britannien? I zink we should all talk.” But again, before answers could be given, Germany’s suitcase began to wiggle. All three countries in the room stared at it, surprised. But it wasn’t done there. It then began to bounce.   
“Vhat zee hell?”   
“Dude! Your luggage is possessed!”  
“Oi vey! Don’t be ridiculous!” But it seemed to thrash more and more wildly, and of course, Germany just came from an airport and was visiting another countries house so he had no gun on him. If he had, he would have fixated it on the estranged luggage. But then, the suitcase fell over onto its side into the floor and RIIIIP! A small, blue clad country, tumbled out and onto America’s living room floor.  
“TAA DAAAA!” Italy cried. Germany’s eye twitched as Alfred started to clap, clearly amused.  
“Wow! I didn’t think a grown dude could fit in that tiny suitcase!”  
“Well, at first I ah, could-a-not-a! But then! Once I realized I could just-a remove-a all of Germania’s things, well! Then, then I coulda fit! Ve!” Germany’s other eye twitched. A slow snarl curled over his lips as complete disbelief overtook him.   
“Ach du lieber! I don’t believe zis! I told you to stay at home!”  
“Aww! But I justa couldn’t! I’d miss you waaaaay too mucha! Ve! I wanted to-a-go on vacationing too!”  
“I already told you dis is not a vacation!”  
“Ve? But we’re in America! Any traveling to America just-a-has-ta be a vacation!” Alfred started to laugh out loud.   
“He’s gotchya there bro! Everything in America is a party!” Germany was not amused. In fact, if someone watched closely, they could see the veins in his forehead come to life, rising under arteriole pressure. He growled in the back of his throat.   
“Can’t anybody take anyzink seriouzly? I was called ount of my country for an emergenzy! I was told zis was an emergenzy! If I vas tricked here to attend some stupid party zen I’m going to blow a blood vezzel!”   
Alfred raised his hands in his classic “chill out” motion, but he was still chuckling under his breath. He sure hoped that all of this slap stick between Germany and Italy was at least cheering Matthew up a little bit and helping him forget his problems.   
“Chill out man! I’ll go get Britain for you so he can explain stuff properly. I’m not very good at getting important details right in stories.” Seeing as he’d called Britain already and he still hadn’t come done, Alfred turned back to the hallway and screamed again.  
“YO! ARTY! I SAID GERMANY’S HERE!”   
“Ohh! Oh ohhh! Me too!” Italy said as he leapt up from his spot on the floor, raising his hand as if for attendance in school. Alfred smiled, then faced the hallway again.  
“AND ITALY TOO!”  
“Shtop it! Shtop shouting! You’re goink to make my earz bleed!” 

Britain finally came back up the hallway. He had long since changed into a British T-shirt and blue jeans. The casual attire was giving him comfort. In truth it was something America had bought for him and when Britain needed to change out of his blood soaked clothes he’d agreed to these Americanized things. They did have a soothing effect and helped remind him America was still alive. Britain looked at Germany and Italy and gave them a brisk nod as a greeting.   
“Ah. Good. Now I’m sure we can get those two out. They have blocked the damn door with your liquor cabinet Alfred. They are holed up in that room singing and carrying on. I was not able to find a way in, but I am quite sure Prussia will come out with you here Germany. He has been asking about you all day. He is very inebriated at the moment though. I think France and Prussia have ingested most of your liquor cabinet Alfred. You should probably send France a bill for that. That would teach him a lesson.”  
Then Arthur turned his attention fully to the two new countries, “There is so much to discuss that I was trying to think of where to begin all day. Let’s go to the kitchen. Canada finally just got his wits back, and I do not want to drag this all out in his ear shot again. So come with me, please.” Britain turned and started to walk the two new countries towards the kitchen.  
Matthew watched from the couch. He couldn’t disagree with Britain’s assessment, but he did add, “I’m ok now Arthur. It was just so much to handle.” He sent a sorrowful look towards Italy, “Try not to freak them out.”  
Britain sat with Germany and Italy on the far side of the kitchen. He let them get settled; or rather he let Italy get settled. Then he started recounting the entire day. He elaborated on Canada and Prussia’s love life and how they had seemingly been seeing each other for the past year. With that information Germany was finally able to piece together where his older brother had been disappearing to over the last year. Britain told them the two countries had decided to officially start seeing each other that morning and had received America’s hesitant approval but not his own. Then the story got interesting.   
Britain then told them about the future America. How he’d appeared on the second floor of the home and what future America had said about Prussia taking over Canada and World War Three. He also told them his future son had tried to assassinate Prussia. He left out no detail. He showed them his bloodied book of black magic, but still seeing the disbelief on their faces he informed them that Prussia could vouch that future America had tried to kill him, and that this unfathomable tale was true.   
He told Germany and Italy that once his future son had died America had shot at Prussia in his traumatized state, and that they’d kept Prussia locked up for most of the day for his own safety. Seeing they were still in disbelief Britain told them to go look around upstairs. He told them the exact location of his time traveling son’s body, but he informed them he would not go back upstairs with them. He then released the pair to go upstairs and see for themselves.   
When they came back down Prussia had once again in his drunken stupor come out into the living room. He was too drunk to speak straight and was leaning against the wall of the hallway in order to say upright. He had one hand on the wall and another was holding an almost empty bottle of scotch that America had received from Scotland for his birthday.   
Prussia had been given an ice pack for the black eye he had earlier in the day. In their drunken state it seemed the two drunken friends had tried to affix the ice pack to Prussia’s head using tape and toilet paper. There was toilet paper being used as bandage wrappings covering the albino’s head in a very unorganized and ineffective way. He looked more like a defective mummy than anything. The ice pack wasn’t even on his eye just loosely caught up in the wrappings and tape. Another testament to how badly he was hammered,   
“Wez! Wez! Ze awezome me! Havingz fierce drinkinz contezt ! Franziz! C-come j-join!” He waved his half empty bottle around in the air.

Well, Germany had seen and heard quite enough. At first he’d wanted to believe that it was just another radical story made up by a country who claimed to see unicorns and fairies. But as soon as he witnessed the body; that had been quite proof enough. It certainly looked like America. And worse still…was that the body smelt like war.   
Germany had been in plenty of wars and he was certainly no stranger to the hardships that came with them. Out of all the countries of the world…Germany…perhaps had suffered the most out of everyone. Although Germany had been the instigator on many occasions, he’d also paid very steep penalties for every single war he’d taken part in. And when it came to World War Two…well…no one could argue the aftermath of all of that.  
Finally being forced to accept Britain’s tale, he came back downstairs. Luckily for him, America and Canada were currently entertaining Italy, so he’d had a spare moment to go look at a body, and now he’d take what time he had left to talk to Prussia about all this. But…as he turned the corner of the downstairs hall, he found Prussia drunk. For a moment, he could only stare. He may have been a huge fan of beer, but this was hardly the place or time to be drinking.   
“Vhy is it dat I’m always the only sane von?” Feeling his usual anger and frustration boil to life, he wasted no time in marching over to his older brother. Germany then dedicated himself to setting the albino straight. Reaching out, he grabbed a hold of the icepack and ripped it off of his face, harshly.  
“You look like an imbecile! It’z not even cold anymore!” He tossed the ice pack roughly to the ground, then didn’t hesitate to slap his brother roughly across the cheek, knowing full-well that he wouldn’t even feel it if he was a drunk as he appeared.  
“Dis is no time to be drinkink! Look at zee trouble you’ve cauzed! Now you tell me unt you tell me straight out! Do you now or have you ever had planz to try unt conquer Canada?” Obviously, Germany was not happy. If Prussia had seriously considered such a thing, he wasn’t even entirely sure what he would do. A move like that was near suicidal for their country. Ludwig knew perfectly well that they didn’t have the man power or the resources to take on the entirety of North America by themselves. Besides…he had no desire too. After all the horror that the German people had suffered, over and over again for hundreds of years, all Germany wanted was peace. He just wanted the people of his country to feel happy and safe. That was all he had ever wanted for them. And it was why both world wars had started in the first place.  
He had absolutely no desire for a third. There was no reason for one. And if Prussia did something as insane as attack Canada…well…as much as Ludwig loved him, he knew he’d have to cut ties with him. There was no way he’d be associated with a sinking ship like that. And he’d do anything to protect Germany…even…if it meant abandoning his crazy brother to some conquest for world domination.  
“Explain yourself Gilbert! Sofort!” 

Prussia stared at his brother with his one normal eye. At first he looked like he was going to answer Germany with some profound message, but then he raised the scotch bottle to his lips. Prussia downed it before his brother could smack it out of his hands. He hadn’t wanted to waste good alcohol. Then with pink cheeks he stared at his younger brother. He’d obviously been dealing with these events all day as well. He couldn’t say what happened in the future, who could? Right now he really did love Matthew. He enjoyed the quiet nations company, and he didn’t want to lose it. Right now he in no way had ever wanted to conquer or kill his boyfriend.   
“Iz onlyz wanz to conquerz Birdzie in bed. Nein hurtz him, bruder.”  
France had come from the back room and up behind Prussia. He was thoroughly blitzed as well, and his face was slightly flushed. He let out one of his trademark laughs.   
“Hon. Hon. Hon. Mon petite Matthieu is on his way to growing up! Gilbert wanz mon petite Matthieu. It is da love, No? Hon. Hon. Hon.” He looked out across the room at his son. Across the room in front of Italy, Canada’s face quickly turned bright red as his father spoke of such things. Britain’s eyes grew stark white from his shock.   
“For the love of God, FROG! Stop butting into things!” He marched over to France and started to drag him off, but France fought back wanting to watch the conversation.  
“Mathzu!” Prussia turned his red eyes towards his boyfriend, “Iz our first fight! Franz said make up zex is awezome!” Across the room Canada’s breath caught in his throat and then he started to choke.

Alfred had been in the middle of taking a sip of his coffee when such lewd things were uttered about his brother’s sex life. He immediately spit it out across the room, the brown liquid hitting poor Britain square in the face.  
“Dude, honestly? You wanna say that type of stuff right in from of his big bro? Are ya serious? Look, I’m trying here, ok? But with this whole future America appearing with a doomsday prophecy it’s kinda hard to trust you as it is! You’re lucky I didn’t kill you as soon as I found out! And now you’re just gunna…be…talking shit..like? Ya know? Dude! I already punched you in the face! Do you want another knuckle sandwich?”  
Ludwig sighed. He understood what America was saying, even if he was less than eloquent in his delivery.  
“I can’t believe I’m sayink this, but Amerika is right. You must be some sort of schwachkopf to say such thingz in front of Canada’s family considerink all they’ve been through today. But of course…you’re drunk…”  
Prussia went to raise the bottle of scotch to his lips once more. Germany’s eyes flashed dangerously. Without warning, he lashed out, grabbing it out of his hands.   
“You need a cold showerz! Ve can’t leave until zee mornink, so for now you get yourself cleaned up and head straight to zee guest room! I’ll deal vith you vhen we get back home!”  
“Yeah Germany dude, you tell em!”  
“And you shut zee hell up! I have enough to deal vith vithout your idiocy!” America frowned.   
“Man…you know you’re in my house right now…right? And your stupid-ass brother caused all this?” Germany sighed heavily, running a hand through his blonde locks.   
“Ja. Of course.” Italy, seeing things were getting tense, and never liking when things were tense, immediately ran over to Germany’s side to ‘come to his rescue.’  
“Oh! Ve! You simply a-must-a forgive him, ve? He’d been under so a-much-a stress! He just needs ah, quick shoulder rub, yah?” Italy reached out as if he were indeed going to give Germany a shoulder rub, but that wasn’t before Ludwig’s usual vein in his forehead popped to life again.  
“I svear to God if you touch me I’ll break your fingerz!”   
“Awww…such a stressful day for Germania, ve. Britain offered me some wonderful-a tea! Would you like some?”  
“Nein…nein…that’s fine. Ve should…just…retire to zee guest room as vell.”  
“Ok! It’ll be like a slumber party!”  
“No! Just sleepink! Ve vill be sleepink and that is all!”  
“Oohh…” Italy frowned in disappointment. All the same, his attitude never seemed deflated for more than a second. “I’ll go get your things! Oh…wait…there aren’t any…because I unpacked-a your suitcase…so I could fit inside…”  
“Oi vey…”  
“Can I pick which-a bed-a I get to sleep in?”  
“Ja ja! Just shut up and come along!”  
“Ok!” Eager to get away from the northern countries and deal with Prussia once he was sober in the morning, Germany took his leave and turned down the hall. Once all three countries had left, it was down to Britain, America, Canada and a drunken France. Alfred sighed. Even he looked stressed out.  
“Matt, dude…we’re sharing a room tonight. I’m gunna have to make sure none of these weirdo’s try anything with you…”


	7. A nightmare and some booze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America and Canada have decided to rest after the events of the day; However, nightmares, drunken parents, and feelings may get in the way of a peaceful night's sleep.

Chapter 7  
A nightmare and some booze!

Canada watched Germany drag Prussia and Italy away. He watched until the door slammed. He heard what America had said but didn’t respond. It wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a room before. They were brothers after all. So he had no problem with it. After seeing future America die he wanted his brother to be close.  
Across the room France broke away from Britain and barreled towards his son. He grabbed Matthew by his shoulders and spun him to face him. He kissed his son on either cheek and smiled broadly.  
“Matthieu, Would you like to come drink with papa?” Matthew smiled at his father, but he was ready to go to bed.  
“No Papa. I’m ready to go to bed. You shouldn’t drink much more either. You smell awful.” Canada waved the air away from his nose of the alcoholic smell.   
“Goodnight Mattieu, Amerique. Angelterre, let us drink.” France let go of Canada and instead went over and grabbed a very stunned Britain dragging him back down the hallway. Britain was shouting the entire way, “Unhand me, Frog!” was the last thing America and Canada heard before the door slammed shut.  
With a sigh Canada turned to face his brother.  
“Lead the way.” Of course he’d have to borrow some of his brother’s PJ’s like he had earlier borrowed some of his brother’s clothes. All his things were on the second floor and he wasn’t going up there to get them.

America took Matthew to one of the downstairs guest rooms that contained two beds, one against opposite walls. Fetching extra pillows and blankets, he set everything up. Changing into his PJ’s which were really just boxers and a white tee-shirt, he then offered Canada some PJ’s which of course, were matching and had American flags and fireworks all over them. Alfred had a good laugh about it, then leapt into his bed in order to settle down for the evening.   
Despite the day’s crazy-ass events, he fell right to sleep within only a few moments. Perhaps it could have been blamed on his usual carefree attitude, or maybe the fact that he had always fallen asleep quickly before, so perhaps it had been habit, but whatever the case, it didn’t last long. Even America’s old habits weren’t enough to erase such a hellish day.  
His nightmares started up right away. Horrible dreams about Canada being bombed, or Prussia taking him away from him. Dreams about running and running and running, and never finding his missing brother. Visions of America in ruin, his people dying and suffering.   
In his bed he tossed and turned, sweat covering his pale skin. He’d always been a good sleeper, and in fact, Canada would have been used to seeing him giggle in his sleep, or perhaps move his mouth up and down as if eating. On rare occasion, he’d mumble something idiotic about parties, or burgers. He hardly ever suffered from nightmares. But this night, his face was twisted, small groans of misery escaping him as he was plagued by a future world that he perhaps, could not prevent from becoming real. 

On the other hand Canada had been unable to fall asleep. He had sat staring at the ceiling for some time. When he had failed to nod off he went to the edge of the bed, leaned over, and lifted up the bed skirt. Similar to their childhood Canada had found a treasure trove of junk underneath his brother’s bed. Canada had explored the vast expanse and eventually found some old book his brother had crammed under the bed some time ago by the looks of it. He’d also found a flashlight and sat reading like he had ages ago when he’d been a child. It wasn’t until he heard his brother moaning and groaning that he looked up from the vampire book.  
When he saw is brother start tossing and turning Canada quickly got up out of bed and jogged to his brother’s side. He sat down on the bed next to his brother and reached out putting his hand on both of America’s shoulders giving him a firm shake.  
“Alfred. Alfred, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” 

Alfred let out a gasp of dread once startled awake. Thrashing, he sat up abruptly, hands on either side of his sheets. Breathing heavily, his blue eyes were huge as they rested on the image of his brother. Still coated in sweat, it took him a second to recognize where he was. Blinking, he took in the sight of Matthew all over again. Then slowly, he started to relax. His breathing slowed. Lifting a hand, he wiped the sweat off of his face. Heart still pounding he tried to settle down.  
For a second, he thought about playing it all off and making up some crazed story about his nightmare being something totally unrelated to the past day’s events. I’ll tell him…I dreamt all the fast food joints went out of business all at once! He thought. But when he lifted his head to face his brother, and tell him the lie, it died in his throat.   
Simply seeing his face was almost too much to bear. The idea of losing him was so horrifyingly real, that it made him want to cry. And America never cried.   
For a long, long moment, Alfred didn’t move. He was torn between throwing up his usual tough front and lying through his teeth and then cracking a joke to play it all off as nothing…or…for once…letting his real emotions show. 

Canada watched his brother sit up. Canada had pulled his hands back waiting for America to come to his senses, but it wasn’t happening fast enough. Alfred was looking at him with that look. It didn’t take a huge ability to ‘read the atmosphere’ to tell that his brother was still very upset from whatever he had been dreaming. As such Canada did what he’d always done when his brother was upset. He reached out grabbing onto Alfred’s shoulders and pulled him into a comforting hug. Gently he patted his brother on the back.  
“Hey Al, it’s ok. I’m right here,” the Canadian said in his gentle voice, “I’ll always be here.” He held his brother close and let America’s forehead rest on his shoulder.

And then, finally, at that moment, Alfred felt all of the horror and stress from the day bubble up inside of him. In the privacy of the guest bedroom, and with no one else around to see but his brother…he felt the heat rise up behind his blue eyes.   
Feeling Matthew so close, and having that physical barrier broken was all it had taken. Immediately, Alfred returned the hug, throwing his arms around his little brother in a crushing hug. Keeping his chin on his twins’ shoulder, he couldn’t fight the few tears that managed to escape.   
But he was still too proud to say anything. He wasn’t like future America, who’d been broken by war and grief. He couldn’t just…start blubbering about how he loved Matt and how he was afraid of the idea of him being hurt or lost or killed. No…he couldn’t say any of that. He was the big brother. He had to be the strong one. He knew he’d protect Matthew. And that meant being tough! Like he always was.   
I’ve always had to be strong, but now it’s so much more important, he thought. Yes. He had to be strong to protect Canada.   
Hoping his face had been hidden enough, so that Matt hadn’t seen his tears, Alfred waited until his face dried, then he released his little brother. When he pulled back and away from him, he plastered one of his usual goofy grins back onto his face.  
“Well! After a nightmare like that, I think I’ll go lock Prussia in his room! I’ll be right back, bro!” And with that, he went to rise out of bed. 

Canada reached out grabbing America’s wrist and halted him before he could leave. This time he was the one that kept his eyes away and facing a far wall.  
“About that….” He started with a heavy sigh. “I know you don’t like Prussia, Alfred even before all of this stuff happened today. Not many people liked Gilbert. But I never feel invisible when I’m with him. That’s why I like having him around.” Canada let his brother’s wrist go and continued to stare off at the wall.

Alfred stopped. He looked to his brother. His smile faded away. He knew then…that he had to be real for once. Matthew needed him to be real. He didn’t need a joke, or an outrageous story about that time at Cape Cod. Matthew…needed his brother. He needed to talk.  
Alfred sighed, then sat down on the bed next to his twin. Embarrassed, because he never was very good at heart-to-hearts, he glanced away.  
“I’m sorry…I’m not very good at this sort of thing…” he started. “But you know, Matt…you…you’re not invisible. Ok? I mean…yeah…sometimes you get pushed aside, or ignored, because you’re so quiet and you keep to yourself, but uh…you know…that doesn’t mean I forget about you. You…you’re really important to me, ok bro?” Alfred lifted his head then, knowing he needed to really look at his brother.  
“So, dude…look. I can tell you really like Gilbert. And I may not really get it…but…that’s because I’ve never had feelings like that for someone.” Then he snickered. “I’m not sure I’m even capable of having feelings like that! And I doubt my love-hate relationship with Mexico counts…” He had to chuckle again, but knowing he couldn’t laugh his way out of this one, he let it die and got back to business.   
“I get that you need someone other than me and Arty and…Francis,” he wrinkled his nose as he said the last name. “I get that I do. And…if…if it absolutely has to be Gilbert…then…I guess I have no choice but to support you. You already know how I feel about him, especially after all of this, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?”   
Alfred reached out, clapping his twin on the shoulder.  
“I’m gunna keep my promise to you. I’ll protect you. Ok? So…you do what you want with Gilbert and let me and Arthur take care of everything else, ok? You should focus on yourself for once. And I guess we’ll switch roles for a bit, and I’ll worry about you instead of you worrying about me.” He offered another smile, but it wasn’t his usual jokester or prankster smile. This one was warm and sincere, even if it did still have a little bit of…well…Alfred smugness in it.

Canada turned back to face his brother.  
“Al, I always worry about you.” He smirked at his brother. “If it makes you feel better to lock Gilbert in go ahead. I think Germany can handle him though.”  
Then the door to the room violently burst open. In the doorway stood a very drunken Brit. Arthur had an empty bottle in one hand. He had a tie tied around his forehead like a bandana. God only knew where it had come from. The T-shirt he’d been wearing was gone and he had on one of France’s purple flowing capes on instead. He staggered into the room pointing at the two boys.  
“Y-yoou.” His finger wavered between the two twins. He didn’t seem able to discern between the two of them, “Y-you! Su-suck! I ra-raised you! I-I…” His blood shot emerald eyes started to fill with tears as he made it half way across the room. “Y-you wanker, You-!” As Britain stumbled across the room he tripped on one of America’s sneakers on the floor and went crashing to the ground. Canada stared his eyes huge.  
“Great. Papa France did this.” As if a speak-of-the-devil mentality applied the drunken, a naked French man soon followed into the room. France stumbled towards the two twins arms outstretched like he wanted to hug them. Canada barely had time to cry out, “Watch out for Dad!” When France tripped over Britain and also fell onto the floor.

Alfred stared, eyes wide with shock at the state of both of them.   
“Why is Francis naked?” But then, of course, he remembered just how numerous those naked accounts actually were when he was a child growing up. Looking to Canada he cried out,  
“This is why I try to disassociate myself with France! America wants nothing to do with this!”

Matthew stared at his twin with pity. He had been dealing with France all of his life, so he was more than a little used to this type of display. Canada jumped up off of the bed quickly running to his downed papa and letting his twin off the hook with dealing with France. Canada tried to hurry mainly because Britain was starting to freak out underneath France. Britain was squirming and clawing at the floor. The poor Brit was generally freaking out.  
“Ge’ off me, Frog! Off! Off!” Britain beat his fist against the floor in protest.  
“Hon! Hon! Hon! No need to be shy Angelterre!” France wrapped his arms around Britain’s neck, “You just need to release your tension!”  
“Papa! Off!” Canada cried as he grabbed his papa and started to drag him off of Britain. It took some finagling but eventually France released Britain, and Canada was able to drag him towards the spare bed. Britain crawled towards America. Once within arm’s reach Britain reached out clutching his son’s legs.  
“Yo-you! Fool! Go-got yours’lf dead! Y-you always were troublemaker! B-but I! Even if you le-left the king-kin-g! O-or wh-when y-you were t-tiny and wet the bed ‘very blasted ni-night! Even wh-when you thre-thre-threw my tea in harbor! Or-or whe-when u st-stole my pi-pirate stuff! O-or act s-so-so stu-stupid! Y-you c-can’t die! Y-you can-can’t!” The half naked Brit clutched onto America’s legs with iron clad strength.

“Uhh…” America really had no idea what to say to Britain in his drunken state. On one hand, he supposed he should be happy that he was upset at the idea of him dying. That must’ve been hard for him today… he thought. But on the other hand, he was being rather insulting at the same time. Not to mention…incredibly embarrassing. America’s cheeks flushed at the mention of his ‘bed wetting’ stage growing up.   
“Shhh! Shut up, dude! We have guests in the room down the hall!” It was one thing for Britain to say it, but God; he’d never live it down if one of the other countries found out about that. Britain proceeded to crush his legs with a rather death-like grip, cutting off his circulation below the knees.  
“Dude! You’re so piss-ass drunk! Between you, France, and Prussia, it’ll be a miracle if I have any alcohol left for myself tomorrow! I hope you didn’t drink my good scotch!” Reaching out, he struggled to pry Britain’s arms off of himself.  
“Man! You better get off of me! I get you had a rough day but we all did! And I don’t know about you, dude, but I kinda wanna get some fucking sleep! And it’s super embarrassing to have you acting like this! France is one thing…he’s always a naked ass, but you?” Gripping Britain’s arms, he struggled to pry them apart. 

Britain only buried his face further into America’s legs. His ramblings continued.  
“O-or th-the first time I c-cau-caught y-you drin-drinking! R-rem-remember?” Britain said between sobs, “C-Ca-Canada to-told on y-y-you an-and y-you were thr-throwing up e-every-everywhere! Y-Yo-you were a-al-always s-so-so thick headed!”   
Since America was trying to get him off, Britain took advantage of the positioning and suddenly lunged out wrapping his arms around America’s neck. He continued to squeeze Alfred mercilessly.   
“Y-you w-wer-were always a p-poo-poor dresser too. You have n-no fashion sense! Y-You can’t even d-dress right fo-for any occasion! You al-always look like some n-ne-Neanderthal! Y-you can-can’t cook! You are so-so unruly too! I- It’s Fr-France’s fault! I-I know it! He wa-was such a b-bad inf-influence! I-I’m sure it w-was hi-his fault!”  
Canada couldn’t help it. He snickered from his place next to his papa. At lease France, even if naked, had nodded off into sleep rather quickly. It was probably because France had been drinking all day.   
However Britain was acting as if he were glued to America. Being as he was still around America’s neck he cried into Alfred’s shirt, “E-Even s-so y-you, git. Y-you can’t die b-be-before me! Neither o-of you! I wo-won’t have it!”

America’s face only grew redder still at everything Britain was saying and the closeness of him. He was practically choking him and had pretty much crawled up into his lap with him.  
“D-D-DUDE!” America struggled to try to pry him off a second time. “I can’t fucking breathe man!” Britain was stronger than he appeared! Alfred was having a hell of a time handling him. “And I like the way American’s dress! We’re super stylish yo! Super stylish! Have you seen our fashion shows? God! Your breath reeks!” America couldn’t deny the rest of what he’d said though. He certainly couldn’t cook, hence all the fast food joints. And he certainly was unruly and thick-headed, two things he was proud of.   
But America was starting to get the sense that Britain had started drinking to forget this horrid day, and perhaps more appropriately, forget that he’d held his son in his arms and had watched him die. Alfred would have felt a lot more for the older country if he wasn’t being so physical!   
“Arthur! Dude! If ya don’t get off me, I’m going to need a drink! You think this day was any easier on me, man? Dude, I watched myself die! Do you have any idea how messed up that is? I’m gunna be having nightmares for weeks! So just…just get off of me!”   
Hearing Matthew chuckle, Alfred looked over to him shooting him a dirty glare.  
“Stop laughing and help me get this old fart off of me!”

Seeing his brother’s plight and hearing him ask for help only made Canada laugh harder. He’d been trying to hold it in, but he eventually couldn’t control himself anymore. He put his hand on his stomach and laughed outright. It took a moment to collect himself, and when he did Canada reached out and patted his papa on the head.  
“I got mine. He’s all yours.”  
Canada let it last for a few more moments. It really was a Kodak moment, but eventually he got up and came to his brother’s aide. He was in the process of bending over to grab onto Arthur when Britain lifted one arm from Alfred and threw it around Matthew’s neck ensnaring him as well.  
“Eh!” Matthew cried as Britain pulled him in close nearly crushing his windpipe. Matthew batted at the arm that was currently choking him. Meanwhile Britain started to rave once more.  
“A-and you! Y-you n-never we-wet the b-bed, bu-but you were so shy! I was a-afraid every-everyone would take a-ad-advantage of-of you and now you’re shacking up with tha-that Albino! F-France’s fau-fault aga-again! I-I may b-be a bad father, an-and I know I-I forgot yo-your birthday m-more than o-once an-and we lef-left you at the theatre that time an-and we-we never really see you at world me-meetings, but I wo-would no-notice i-if you w-went mis-missing like that! I swear! Fro-Frog swears too! W-We all promise Mat-Matthew! I-I-I’m so sorry….”   
The hand around Matthew’s neck loosened lightly but Britain didn’t let go. He simply put his hand on the back of both twins head and brought them close. The stoic Brit seemed to be coming unhinged, like always, in the presence of alcohol, “I wouldn’t screw it up so bad. I wouldn’t let it happen.”  
Matthew had just done this with his brother, so he knew how to help his father. He reached out hugging Arthur as he had done minutes ago for Alfred.  
“No one’s messed anything up. I’m ok. Other than really freaked out we’re both ok Arthur. Don’t worry.”  
Britain let out a huge sniffle and slowly let himself sink to the floor, but he didn’t let go of either brother. He kept a firm hand on America's shirt and Canada's PJ's. Being drunk he seemed content to go back to his rambling state.  
“You were both so cute in your little bloomers. Even if I had to wash your bedding every night. We didn’t have plastic then. That would hav-have been so much easier, Alfred. I-I...”  
Just like that the drunken Brit went from serious-sad to once more rambling drunk. Canada was a bit at a loss. Alfred had been the one to deal with a drunken Arthur on many occasions. Be it any other night but tonight it would have been easier to handle. Alfred probably would have pulled twenty different pranks on the drunken Brit, but it was not a night for pranks. Arthur had obviously gotten so hammered to erase the pain of the day. So with a sigh Canada turned to his twin.  
“Do we dunk him cold water? He’ll wake the others if he starts up again."

As Alfred and Matthew were both dragged to the floor with their drunken father, America couldn’t help but to wonder what he should do.  
“I dunno bro…normally I just tease him until morning. But he’s usually fun when he’s wasted. Now he’s all…weepy and stuff. I’m really uncomfortable! I’m not used to dealing with all this raw emotion!”  
It was at that moment that Germany burst into their room, flinging the door wide open until it crashed into the opposite wall. Still completely dressed in his uniform since he had nothing to change into, thanks to Italy’s mishap with his suitcase, he looked just as formidable as ever. And his scowl and his throbbing vein in his forehead were as chiseled as always.  
“Vill you all just shut zee hell up?! I svear dis house is full of crazy people! It’z two o’clock in zee mornink! Don’t you people ever sleep? Don’t you ‘ave any consideration for your house guests? Amerika your place iz insane! You party even after der’s been a catastrophe of epos proportionz! Now I vill ask nicely unt only once! Because if you wake up Italy one more time, I’ll be forced to kill myself in order to get any rest around ‘ere!”  
And then just like that, he slammed the door shut and the group could hear him stomping back down the hall to his own bedroom. And with Britain, the drunk, shushed into silence for the moment due to the interruption, they could now hear the very fast, very loud, very racing Italian language that was piercing through the guest room down the hall. Italy was talking so quickly and his accent was so thick and he was adding so many extra syllables to his English that they couldn’t even understand him. But it was however, very clear to as why Germany was so upset that he was woken up.  
“Nein! Der vill be nein cuddlink! Go back to bed! You’re a country, act like von!”  
The northern countries room was silent for just a second, but then, America’s face cracked into a grin and he burst out laughing.   
“Hahaha haha ha haha! Poor Germany! His boyfriend might even be worse than yours Matt! Hahahaha! I’d go crazy dealing with that all day every day! Ha haha hahaha! No wonder he has a stick up his ass all the time!” 

Eventually Matthew and Alfred were able to situate Arthur on the second guest bed with France. It left Canada without a bed, so he decided to crash with his brother. After all the hell of the previous day all four nations were able to doze off into wonderful bliss.


	8. A mini half a world meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred and Gilbert try to come to terms with each other while everyone discusses the events from the previous day.

Chapter 8  
A mini-half-a-world meeting

The next morning Prussia woke with a pounding hangover, a dry mouth, and a huge hole in his memory.  
“Ack!” He let out a disgruntled sound as he raised his hands to his pounding temples, “Oh mein gott! Was zum Teufel ist passiert.” (What the hell happened?)  
Prussia opened his eyes to the light of the room which he immediately regretted. Oh my head. Taking a quick glance around he was surprised to see his brother and Italy on a nearby bed.  
“West? What ze hell?” He stared out across the room at his brother for a moment before bringing his hands down to cover his eyes, “What ze hell happened?” He whispered as he tried to block out the light of the room. Then Prussia’s eyes squinted together as he remembered some very strange events occurring the previous day. No… That had to be a dream.   
“I hadz creepiest dream laz night, West.” Prussia mumbled out. He needed his voice to stay low for his pounding head.

Needless to say, Italy was in Germany’s bed, as always. Germany had given up trying to put him his own bed long ago. The Italian always ended up crawling back in with him in the middle of the night anyway with one excuse or another about not being able to sleep otherwise. And Germany discovered early on in their relationship that if he just let him sleep with him, he’d shut up and dose off. And so, it was really the only way to get any sort of shut eye.  
Hearing his brother’s voice, Germany slowly started to wake up. Rubbing his face, he opened his blue eyes to the day and…found Italy already awake and staring at him, his nose inches from his own.  
“GAH!”  
“Buongiorno Germania!” (Good morning Germany!) Germany only sighed. It was too early to get all worked up already. That and his older brother was speaking to him. He’d rather just ignore Italy and address the issues at hand. They were rather serious after all. And so, sitting up, he casually shoved Feliciano aside and to the floor.  
“Ouchie! Waaahh! Why’s Germania so-a-mean first thing in-a-the morning?”  
Completely ignoring poor Italy, Ludwig sat up on the edge of his bed in order to face his older brother…who really seemed only to act like a little brother. Sighing, he glanced to the side.  
“Dat was no dream you had Gil…” he said. “Unt ve have some serious issues to address dis mornink with the North Amerikan countries before ve leave to go home.” Sighing again, Germany lifted his head to the ceiling pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.   
“But I suppose…der’s not much ve can do to reassure dem of anythink. All I can offer dem is to keep an eye on you. Unt all you can do is promise never to do such a heinous thing. Der’s nothing more.” But it seemed another country didn’t think so. Italy quickly raised his hand. Still seated on the floor from where he was shoved, the palm lifted only to about Germany’s waist.   
“Ooo! Ooo! I know, I know!” Germany looked to him. And for just a split second, he had to admit that he was kind of adorable.  
“Ja? Vhat is it Italy?”  
“I know how we can-a-prevent the whole future doomsday thingy! We just-a-let-a Gilbert and Canada fall in love! Because, when people are-a in love, they don’t blow each other up! Ve!”   
Germany sighed again, but this time not because he was frustrated with the boot shaped country. This time he sighed because he couldn’t help but to feel a little bit sad. It was such an innocent, naïve thing to say. It was one of the things that made Italy so special. He was full of art, and romance in ways that other countries just weren’t. France liked to pretend he was the most romantic country in the world…but everyone knew he was just a pervert. Italy on the other hand had true, pure intentions when it came to things like love. It was one of the many (secrete) reasons Germany liked him. Not that he’d ever admit to any of that out loud. Ever. And so, instead of smacking Feliciano, or yelling at him as usual, he actually answered in a much softer voice than usual.  
“Feliciano…I vish it vere that simple. But you just can’t solve every problem vith love…” But this didn’t seem to deter Italy at all. He only smiled more brightly.  
“Ah! But Germania! You can!” Germany set his cool blue eyes on the cute little country. He couldn’t help but to feel bad for him. He just didn’t understand hardship in the same way Germany did. No country in the world had lost an entire tenth of their population due to concentration camps. And Germany knew full well that there were some things love just couldn’t fix. The scars he carried around with him were a constant reminder of that.  
“…” He hadn’t been exactly sure what it was he was about to say, but he stopped himself when he looked at that innocent face. He knew he couldn’t crush him. He didn’t want to. Sometimes…it was important to see how the little country could hope and dream.   
“Ok. I think ze three of us should just…go out and meet with zee others. Ve can all discuss dis together. Ve shall reassure dem dat dis future they saw vill never come to pass.” Choosing to ignore Italy’s suggestion instead of cutting it down seemed to be the kindest resolution. He hoped Italy was too dumb to pick up on what he’d done. Then, again, sometimes it was hard to tell. Germany often suspected that Feliciano was much more intelligent than he let on.   
Standing up and getting out of bed, Germany started toward the guest bathroom. He may not have had a change of clothes, but he could at least be clean when he presented himself to the other countries.

~~

The other countries, of course, had the same idea as the others. France popped right out of bed as if nothing had happened, but it took America, Canada, and France together to get poor Britain up and running. He had a massive hangover, and had vomited several times before even being able to stand on his own. At least everyone else had eventually gotten to sleep after a time.  
Albert, after ending up in the same bed with Matthew, fell to sleep much more easily. Having his brother right next to him was a huge comfort. He’d know then, if he disappeared in the middle of the night. And of course, he didn’t, despite his fears.   
Eventually, the four countries made it downstairs. America, not caring to dress for the occasion, was in his usual casual clothes. And since they’d all be talking over breakfast, he’d taken the opportunity to drive over to McDonalds and get food for everyone. Once he was back, an egg McMuffin was placed in front of each of the countries. And just to make sure there was variety, there was also a huge box of doughnuts in the middle of the table and plenty of coffee.  
“Ok, dudes! This is my house so we’re gunna run things my way!” And of course, he was seated at the head of the table as everyone else took seats around him. “The first thing I think everyone here wants to know is if Prussia is already in contact with Russia or not. Because this whole crazy thing seems to hinge on the fact that Russia is the bad guy. Arthur was right yesterday when he said Prussia couldn’t bomb anyone as he is right now, because he’s a weak little ghost nation. Which means Russia is really the bad guy and Prussia here is just a pawn. Am I right?” 

“Do notz zpeak of ze awezome me like I am some pathetic lozer, kid! I am ze awezome Prussia!” Prussia shouted from his end of the table and then immediately regretted it. He grabbed his head and sank into his chair a bit, “Oh…ow…”   
He rubbed at his pounding head and cringed. This hangover was murder. Then he said the next part of his speech with much more subtle tones, “The only country I visit is Canada. I do it for ‘is company ‘nd pancakes ‘nd now his vital regions. I have not talkz to Russia or his crazy azz. I have no planz to everz talk to the azz who hurt mine Birdie. If he comez near Matthew I willz kill ‘em.”   
“Good. He did not speak to Russia. Will everyone please stop talking now?” Britain said from his place at the other side of the table. His trembling hands were clutching his head as well. Canada stood up from the kitchen table leaving his egg McMuffin behind. He walked around the table and stood beside Gilbert.  
“We need to talk. Come on.”  
“Right now?” Gilbert clutched at his skull and stared longingly at his untouched coffee. Not to mention the ‘meeting’ going on although he really had nothing else to say. He’d spoken the truth and made his peace. It was all he could do.  
“Right now.” Canada reiterated. Gilbert probably wouldn’t have done it for anybody else. Germany could have testified to that, but Prussia stood up abandoning his coffee to talk to the other nation. Canada took Gilbert’s wrist and pulled the unsteady man out of the kitchen. Canada had heard what he’d needed to hear from Gilbert. He’d had plenty of time to think since yesterday and now they needed to talk. So he left his family in the kitchen and went to one of the guest rooms in the back for privacy, closing the door behind him.

Back in the kitchen Britain reached out a shaking hand and grabbed his McDonald’s coffee. France had a huge smile on his face at what his son had just done.  
“It’s like a world meeting, no?” France turned to Germany, a serious expression on his face for once, “I gave him the alcohol last night so Gil would speak honestly with me. I talked to him for a very long time. I do not believe he has done anything to betray mon petite, Matthieu. Yet, even if he is my friend I would not forgive him if he did such a heinous thing to my sons. Still, I cannot try him for things he has yet to do. All we can do is watch and wait. Then there’s Russia….”

Alfred’s eyes twitched as he watched his brother grab Gilbert by the hand and lead him out of the dining room. But he didn’t say anything or try to stop them. He’d meant everything he said during his heart-to-heart with his brother last night, and so…he was going to let him do whatever it was he needed to do, whether he liked it or not.  
“Aw!” Came Italy’s smitten voice. Several countries turned their heads to look at him as he swooned. “It’s just-a-exactly as I said! Love!” The little country turned and looked to Germany, who still didn’t seem all that convinced. Looking to the rest of the countries, Italy continued. “We have nothing at-a-all to worry about everyone! Can you really look at-a those two and say Gilbert would hurt Canada?”  
America’s eyes dropped to the side. When it was said out loud like that…it was a lot harder to believe than it was yesterday. He knew how his brother felt about Prussia through all the talking they’d done the day before…and after Prussia’s little speech just then, it was hard to think that he also didn’t feel the same way about Matt.  
“All zee same,” came Germany’s calm, rational voice. “Ve now know that Russia is ze one behind all of dis. As such, it means he’s goink to contact Gilbert sometime in ze near future. Von vay or another, in the future the two countries get together. Now dat ve know of all of dis, Gilbert can be prepared to turn down vhatever proposal Russia comes to him vith. Den, he can report back to us to let us know vhat exactly it vas Russia offered him.”  
“Dude, that makes me nervous,” America immediately said. “Whatever Russia said to Prussia to begin with was enough to turn him on Matt! What’s to say whatever deal he offers him won’t turn him again? We should just…lock Prussia up for a few weeks surrounding my birthday. That’s when all this shit starts going down, right?”  
“Ve don’t know vhat date Russia makes contact. I’m not goink to lock my bruder up for months on end just because you’re nervous.”   
“Dude…don’t piss me off right now…I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Matt! And if that means locking up the albino, then let’s fucking do it!”  
“No!” Italy suddenly cried. “You-a-cannot separate them! They must be together! The stronger their bond, the more protection they’ll-a-have-a!” 

The whole time Italy spoke it seemed that France was stealthily sliding his chair down the table and closer to the smaller nation. Eventually he reached his goal. He reached out hugging Italy close. France played with Italy’s brunette hair in a way that would most likely piss off Germany. A slight, untrustworthy smile came to the Frenchman’s face.  
“Hon. Hon. Hon. Such a cute wittle thing du are. I could just take you home with me. Du are right. Love is all you need.”  
Britain shot a glare from where he was currently resting his head on the table. He would have loved to get up and pound on France, but he was incapacitated at the moment. With a heavy sigh he spoke his mind.  
“It’s impossible to tell the flow of events. Having future America here has already changed a lot. In truth, Russia could contact Prussia tomorrow or the day after your birthday Alfred. We don’t know. All we know is that Matthew went missing right after your birthday. Which means he was taken within a certain time frame. We can watch him during that time. Russia’s huge. If Matthew was forced into Russia it’s no wonder no one could find him there. It is dangerous territory and hard to survey. What worries me is why Russia singled out Canada in the first place. What made him decide Canada was his target?”  
Britain looked down the table at Germany with a sympathetic look, “I know you are concerned for your brother. We are not asking you to keep him prisoner forever or treat him as such. Just to make sure somebody always knows where he is around the time of Alfred’s next birthday. We will have to keep Matthew in our sights around that time as well. It is not an unreasonable request. I can imagine if you were the one in our shoes right now that you may have eliminated the threat to your brother already. No one here has laid a hand against Prussia. Well… America did belt him one, but that was well deserved. Gilbert is still alive and so is Matthew. We have to keep it that way. It seems we all have to be wary of Russia.”

Germany agreed whole-heartedly…but couldn’t bring himself to speak at the moment, because he was far far more upset about France’s manhandling of his Italy! He sat, arms crossed, eyes shut in anger as he struggled to contain himself. But now there were two, three, four veins poking out of his forehead. And when France started laughing in his ‘hon hon hon’ way all over again, it was far too much for Ludwig to take.   
“Allright dat’s quite enough! Get your ekelhaft (disgusting) hands off of him! You really are a pervert!” Reaching out to the seat next to him, Germany effortlessly shoved France off of Feliciano by way of his face. With a crash the blonde country went down to the floor. Italy, apparently loved this aggressive display of possession over him, for he turned to Germany with stars in his eyes.  
“Ve! Germania! You protected me!” Germany let out a huff, quickly turning the other way so as not to look directly into such a cute face. If he did, it would be his undoing.   
“Only because you’re too veak to do anything by yourself! You need to shape up! Be stronger! Don’t let perversen’s like dis take advantage of you!” But his barking orders only seemed to make Italy even more enthralled with him. Leaning in, he quickly threw his arms around the tougher, chiseled country.  
“I-a-love-a-Germania! Ve! He-a takes care of me! And he-a protects me! And he-a makes-a-sure I don’t mistake-a-da-dishsoap for juice!”  
“Ach du lieber…” Now of course, even the tough Germany’s cheeks were beginning to change color with embarrassment. Especially when America started laughing all over again.  
“Dishsoap! Hahaha! Haha ha ha hahahah! Even I’m not that dumb, right Arty!” He elbowed the poor hung-over Brit in the ribs. Arthur immediately winced due to the pain.  
“Perhaps you are…you twit…” he mumbled in misery.  
“EH-HEM!” Germany quickly cleared his throat to get everyone back down to business. He just hated all of the round-about silliness that always seemed to take place when more than two countries got together to discuss something, or anything!  
“Look! Ve agree vith Britain’s assessment. Ve shall keep an eye on Gilbert, you shall keep an eye on Canada, unt ve shall report any strange happenings to von another if any should occur. Ve shall be especially diligent around ze date of ze fourth of July.” And now Italy was rubbing his cheek up and down Germany’s arm, and humming a song to himself as he continued to latch on like a leech.   
“Vill you shtop dat? I’m tryink to have a civil conversation! Gott!” 

France sat on the floor looking utterly dejected. It was a ploy to try and lure Italy to him.  
“There is no love for me! No where!” He thrust his head to the side rather dramatically. Ignoring his brother’s fit Britain continued to stare at Germany as he spoke. He nodded his agreement of what Germany had said. Then a thought hit him like a ton of bricks.  
“Our next world meeting is coming up soon, right? That’s probably the next time we will all see each other. Blimey. That meeting is only a few days away, isn’t it? Oh my God! Being here I forgot all about it. I have yet to prepare anything!” He turned glaring at America, “This is your fault. That meeting is to talk about that damn election of yours! Buggar! That puts all of us and Russia in the same place, too. We’ll have to see him. I’m assuming Gilbert would come just to see Canada, am I right?”   
Britain tried to think about how future events could lead to World War Three, “There's no way to know for sure if this meeting had anything to do with anything or not. This is so frustrating.” Britain ran his hands through his hair, “All we can do is be cautious.”

“Dude…my head’s spinning…” Alfred groaned. Everyone ignored him.   
“Ok,” Germany agreed. “Den ve vill all prepare, unt meet again at zee next world meetink in a few days.”  
Standing up, Italy still glued to his arm, it was clear the meeting was over. Germany and Italy headed to their room to ‘pack’ which was funny, because there wasn’t anything to pack (unless Germany was stuffing Italy back into the suitcase.) Then they would prepare to leave. But of course, they had to wait for Prussia to emerge from the bedroom with Canada first before they could take him home.   
America, seeing an opportunity (he was good at that), hurried out of the dining hall and instead down to the bedrooms. Hustling, he quickly found the bedroom Gilbert and Matthew were talking in. There was no way he was going to miss this!  
Leaning in, and being as sneaky as he could, he pressed his ear against the closed door in order to eaves drop.

Of course there were certain disadvantages with only being able to listen to the conversation and not seeing it. Everything inside of the room was going fine. In fact the two men had covered much in the time they’d been talking. After such a conversation Prussia rested his hand in Canada’s hair and held him close.  
“West iz ready to go I’mz sure. Probably checkingz his watch everyz minute. Letz make dem wait.” Canada was glad to see that with all the seriousness of the conversation dredged through Prussia had turned back into his normal jokester self. Prussia’s ‘ass’ personality was still intact as well. Canada smiled as he let Prussia hold him.  
“Your brother is like that. Always like clockwork and reliable. We probably shouldn’t keep them waiting. Alfred’s still worried about me being with you.” Canada let his eyes drift towards the door. He leaned forward and whispered into Prussia’s ear, “He’s spying at the door.” Prussia’s eyebrows knit together. He whispered back to his boyfriend as his red eyes drifted to the door.  
“How du you know that?” Canada shrugged his shoulders. Giving the universal indicator that he didn’t know the exact answer to that question. Then he whispered back.  
“It’s always been like that. I can always tell where he is, and he’s spying on us.” Prussia continued to stare at the door and then he got a wonderful idea. He let go of Canada. Then he hopped up off of the bed and tiptoed over to the door. With an audible click the door locked. Prussia snickered and quickly ran back towards his confused boyfriend. He leapt at Canada. Playing, he toppled the smaller nation over and sat once more on top of Canada, making the quiet Canadian let out a startled, “Eh!” As his boyfriends weight pushed him down on the bed sheets.  
Prussia hovered over his boyfriend. That sly Prussian smirk plastered on his face as he stared into Canada’s blue eyes. Then loudly he said.  
“He zhould be worried about the awezome me. I promised to conquer Canada’s vital regions!” Canada felt his cheeks turning red as Gilbert reached out taking off his glasses and placed them somewhere off on the bed.  
“Gilbert. I don’t think now is really the time.” Canada squirmed, “I’m sure they’re waiting for you. My br-brother is listening.” Prussia reached out gently putting his finger on Matthew’s lips to silence him. A very mischievous smile took over the albino’s features.  
“Let zem wait. Let unawezome listen. The awezome me haz awezome things to do to you.” He said the last line much louder than was needed so America was sure to hear it loud and clear.  
“A-aw-awezome things to do?” Matthew felt his cheeks flush at that. His face turning red. “Gi-G-Gilbert really! Stop! Now isn’t-” Then Prussia reached out gently taking Canada’s face in his hands. Canada knew his boyfriend was serious about going ahead with his plans to torment Alfred. It was also a bit theatrical when Prussia laughed loudly and then turned directing his loud voice at the door.  
“Of course we donz need to ztop! We canz do it quickly! Do notz worry Matthew! I am a pro!” He snickered as he looked down at his boyfriend, “Come on Matthew! Play along.” He said the last part much more quietly so America wouldn’t hear. Then he leaned down planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. 

Well, that was quite enough of that. Alfred had wanted to eaves drop simply to make sure that Prussia was indeed trustworthy, and that his little brother was safe, but there was no way in Hell he was going to let him sex up his little bro right there in his own house, even if he did, kinda, sorta, maybe, give his blessing.   
He gave no warning; there was only a quick, loud CRACK as he kicked in the locked door. As discussed previously, America had freakish strength. And so, standing in the door, eyes a bit crazy looking, he proceeded to march inside the bedroom.  
“Duuuude!” He yelled, clearly unable to find anything more articulate for the moment. Striding in with wide steps on long legs, he reached the bed. Lashing out, he grabbed onto the back of Prussia’s shirt and yanked him rather effortlessly off of Canada. Whipping him around, he stared into his face, his blue eyes just full of the crazies.   
“Dude! No! Dude! Just no! No dude!” Far too wrapped up in the moment and too protective to find words in his own language, that was really all he could muster. All the same, the message was very clear. 

Gilbert’s smirk was priceless. He stood on his own two feet just in front of America. His red eyes stared into America’s eyes with a spark of glee.  
“Whatz iz it unawezome? Your brother and I were just going to say goodbye. It may be a littlez while until I see him again. I just have to make sure he rememberz me.”  
Canada lay on the bed. His face was tomato red in embarrassment, but the longer he laid there the more his shock started to turn into anger. His hands slowly clenched into fist and he trembled as he glared at his boyfriend’s back. Prussia was playing around so much that it was slightly maddening. Slowly Canada raised his foot up and aimed a well placed kick at Prussia’s back.  
“Can’t you take anything serious, Gilbert! Can’t you try and be a little bit more romantic!” Canada kicked out nailing Prussia in his back. The movement knocked Prussia forward and onto a stunned America.   
Canada’s eyes slowly widened in shock as he watched Prussia’s lips land on his brother’s. The Northern nation felt his eye twitch at the scene. Poor Prussia on the other hand looked like he would die. His white hair seemed to stand on end. He jerked away quickly wiping at his mouth.  
“Mon Gott! Ahh!” He cried in horror.

Poor, poor America. He stood in silence, unmoving due to his shock. For a few ghastly seconds, he simply didn’t budge, or blink or breathe. But then slowly, he lifted a hand to his lips, which had been soiled.  
“…” But for once in his life, America really didn’t have any comebacks. His stony face then began to crack under pressure, his right eye twitched, then his left. And for several seconds it was hard to tell if he was about to burst into a fit of anger, or if he were instead about to cry. It was hard to tell for some time as he appeared fairly torn between both reactions.   
He battled himself, and then finally, burst into a sudden frenzy of action. He lashed out, quite reflexively, and punched Prussia right in the black eye he’d already given him the night before. With a cry, and tears in his eyes, he then immediately turned away from the pair and ran out of the room yelling,  
“These lips are only for Mexico!” Which of course had been quite a mistake too, because America was trying to keep his little crush on the other country a secret. God forbid anyone put that together, and then view him as weak.


	9. The World Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for everyone to meet, but America's anxious after everything that has taken place. Matthew's used to being invisible and off by himself. Will the other nations notice America's sudden attitude change concerning his brother? What will they do?

Chapter 9  
The World Meeting

 

Canada had tended to Prussia’s black eye. He gave his boyfriend an ice pack and slowly all of the nations departed from America’s home. Canada was the last to leave and he stood just beside his car as he waited for his brother to hurry up.

After everyone was gone and Alfred was in the car with his brother on the way to the airport, he called the construction company and gave them permission to completely demolish his house and then rebuild it just as it was…without a second floor.  
Once that order of business was taken care of, Alfred did his duty as an older brother and proceeded to be annoying and bothersome to Canada (sometimes on purpose, other times quite by accident, just by being himself) throughout the car ride. Then the plane ride. Then the car ride to Canada’s house. Then once they arrived at Canada’s house, immediately America complained about the cold. Then the snow. Then the small size of Matthews’s house compared to his own. Then he whined that there was no coffee, and nothing good on TV, and no video games to play.  
No, he didn’t want to read a book. Books were for nerds. No he didn’t want to play hockey because Canada always won. No, he didn’t want to go outside and build a snowman, it was way too frigid. No he didn’t want pancakes, he wanted a burger.  
Granted, his entire trip couldn’t be entirely horrible. He did enjoy spending time with his younger brother, and Matthew did enjoy spending time with Alfred too. But after several days together, both of them were pretty fed up with one another, as how it seems to go with family. And so, after one too many noogies and pranks from Alfred, (who honestly was trying to have fun and cheer his brother up) the more northern of the twins was ready to get to the world meeting so that Alfred could just get on a plane and go back home to America where he belonged.  
The two had to endure another long car ride to the airport, then another insufferable plane trip across the seas in order to get to the world meeting. But finally, the twins arrived. The two stepped in through the doors of the meeting room together, something that they had never done before. It may have come as a surprise to a few of the other countries, especially certain countries that perhaps had taken notice of Canada’s usual isolation…and perhaps may have been planning to use it to their advantage in some way.   
“What up bitches? Let’s get this party started!” America cried as the twins entered, making his usual grand entrance, only this time, his brother close at his elbow.  
Starting up his usual routine as a social butterfly, America began skimming his way through the room, chatting up the other countries (but only the ones he liked) one at a time. But when it would come time for the meeting to begin, he would once again be at his brother’s side, ever present, and oddly…very mindful of him, despite the bad jokes and the slaps across his back which appeared painful…but all the same were meant as a gesture of brotherly love. It was definitely a change in the super powers usual habits. 

Canada scanned the meeting room. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see Prussia. The albino had no business being there after all. They probably hadn’t let him this far in since he wasn’t a nation anymore. Canada felt his heart sink a bit. He’d wanted to see his boyfriend. Then he shot America a sideways glare as his brother smacked him on the back again, but Canada’s glare did nothing to stop his brother’s rough antics.   
Canada felt himself looking around the room at everyone. Normally no one would be looking his way, but it seemed like today everyone was staring. He felt a bit startled when he looked up and found Britain, France, Germany, Japan, Russia, and China staring his way, (Italy was staring at Germany) and those were just the familiar few. Everyone who had no knowledge of the previous incident were wondering why his brother was at his side. It had to be an odd sight for them. Matthew was usually invisible at these meetings after all, but his brother’s behavior was drawing him attention for all the wrong reasons.   
“Can you please calm down?” Matthew found himself requesting in his quiet tone, but it seemed his brother hadn’t heard him. Go figure. Matthew rolled his eyes. He was really on his last straw with Alfred. As the last few days had passed Canada found that the longer he was in close proximity to his brother the more he wanted to slug the over pretentious American. He didn’t know how much longer he could handle him. So when the first break came, he was bubbling with excitement when Britain and France walked over. When Britain started talking to America about the state of America’s economy Canada saw an opportunity to go and find Prussia. Of course the moment he went to walk away America noticed, but Canada raised his hands halting his brother.  
“I’m going to find Gilbert. I want to talk to him. You stay here. I’ll be right back.” Britain of course saw that Canada was a bit unhappy with his brother’s constant presence. He thought it would be a good time to let Canada go off alone. The break was only for 30 minutes anyway. Britain reached out taking a hold on America’s shoulder to draw the younger nation’s attention towards him.  
“Alfred let him go. I still need to talk to you.” 

But Alfred really just couldn’t help but to be worried. He may have been really good at keeping up pretenses, but that horrible day around a week ago was still haunting him. He was still having bad dreams…it was hard not to when he’d seen his own dead body strewn out before him…and no amount of joking or a carefree attitude seemed to make that go away. Lifting his eyes from his seat at the table, he looked up to Britain who stood just next to him.   
“But…Russia’s here Arthur…” he said quietly so none of the other countries would overhear. And Arthur, in seeing his son’s face, could truly tell how worried he really was. America may have put up a front most of the time, but at least with Matthew and Arthur, he sometimes let it slip. Arthur felt for him, but knew that Matthew needed some time alone or he’d go crazy, and the Brit certainly didn’t need a phone call about the two of them fighting in any serious type of way.  
“You should be more concerned about your country right now,” Arthur suggested, purposefully changing the subject. “You’ve been ignoring your duties. Aren’t you the least bit worried about the fiscal cliff America’s approaching?”  
Alfred winced. Of course he was worried about the stupid fiscal cliff. It was all anyone in America was talking about since the elections were over. Even though his head hadn’t really been in the game the past few weeks, he wasn’t completely blind to the major problems his country was now facing. Even being away, he’d been taking plenty of phone calls from his boss…a worried, overtired, stressed boss, who was doing everything he could to avoid said cliff.   
“Congress is working on it ok? Neither side of the aisle wants us to go over the cliff. We’re doing what we can. You and your European friends can stop wigging out. This is America we’re talking about here. We’re stronger than that.”   
Alfred hadn’t meant to be so short with Arthur. He knew he was just concerned, but…he was still so worried about Matthew. And of course, Arthur was right…it was hard to worry about two things at the same time. Maybe he wasn’t working as hard as he should have been on the economy since all of his attention was on his brother.   
America sighed, resting his chin in his hand. He certainly didn’t want any of the other countries noticing or questioning his lack of attention to details as of late. Hopefully they were all too absorbed in themselves or each other, as usual, to take notice. But as he looked out across the meeting hall, Alfred immediately saw a difference in a few of them.   
Germany certainly was paying closer attention than usual. Which was hard for him, since he was always so observant to begin with. But the moment he met America’s eye, he casually glanced away so as not to call attention to the fact that he may have had some connection with the North American country.   
With Italy there was no change. He was still fawning over Germany, oblivious to the tensions around him. No worries there. But…it was a few of the other countries America noticed that suddenly had him more worried than before.  
China was glancing his way, instead of gloating to one of the younger countries about how ancient and wise he was. And as soon as their eyes met, he turned away…but not in the same manner Germany had.   
Oh my God…I hope I’m just being paranoid… But he couldn’t help but to hate the fact that Matthew had left the room without him. That and…  
…Alfred’s blue eyes widened with a touch of panic when he scanned the room a second time. There was a key player that was missing. A country that he wanted to know the whereabouts of at all times. Especially with Matthew out of the room.  
“Arthur!” He hissed in an urgent whisper. “Where’s Russia?”

“What?” Britain’s eyes widened when he looked around the conference room and found the creepy vibe country was nowhere in sight. He felt his heart skip a beat. He raised his hand to his chest and forced himself to relax.  
“It’s a world meeting. He probably stepped out for coffee or a snack.” He whispered back to his son. A second glance of the room did confirm that Russia was gone. It wasn’t like Russia would skip the second half of the meeting. There would be no way for him to hurt Canada here. None at all. He reassured himself.   
Then that feeling he got when he held his dead son came creeping back into his head. That sorrow and pain. He couldn’t ignore it no matter how hard he tried. That’s when he looked over to the place Matthew had been sitting. There was Canada’s cell phone sitting on his chair. Most likely it had fallen out of his pocket. Britain walked over to the electronic device and picked it up. Maybe he’d left it behind so Alfred couldn’t bother him, but it gave Britain a quick cover story. Britain quickly walked towards the door of the conference room.  
“Come on. I think your brother forgot his phone. I think he went to the front entrance. Let’s take it back to him.”

At the front entrance of the building Matthew was happily in his boyfriend’s arms. After finding a quiet area away from the eyes of any prying nations Matthew found himself smiling as he quickly kissed his boyfriend and went about forgetting all about his annoying brother. Prussia was banned to the outside stairs at the front of the building, but he was quite content to have come and be reunited with his boyfriend. They had only talked for a few minutes when Canada realized his cell phone was missing. He rolled his eyes in aggravation.  
“If Alfred tries to call me and can’t reach me he’ll have a heart attack. Let me go get the stupid thing. I’ll be right back, Gilbert. I promise.” Gilbert smirked.  
“Zo when you get back I shall havz food waiting?” He pointed over to a vendor food cart that was selling street food. Canada laughed.  
“Sure. It’s a date. I’ll be right back.” He ran back into the embassy building when he felt a sudden chill go down his spine as a voice called out to him.  
“Comrade Matvey!” Canada was a bit surprised when he saw Russia of all people walking up beside him. Crap! Where was that stupid brother of his when he needed him? Matthew laughed nervously as he stared back at Russia. His hand went up to his head and he nervously scratched at his scalp. He looked back towards the entrance of the building, but Gilbert couldn’t help. Gilbert wouldn’t be able to see through the stupid tinted glass, and plus he was locked outside.  
“Can I’ve have a word with you Comrade?”  
“R-right now? Wi-with me?” Canada stuttered a bit nervously, “I- I was in a hurry, Russia. I left something in the conference room.” He raised his hand and pointed back towards the elevator that lead up to the meeting room.  
“This will only take a minute. Da?” Russia reached out grabbing Canada’s wrist and started dragging him towards the building stairwell, “We can take this way back to the meeting room, Da? Give us time to talk.”  
Shit. Matthew thought about the current situation. He knew he had to act normal. He wanted to scream in all honesty. This was the son of a bitch who had killed him in some future world after all, but there were pretences to keep up here. Russia hadn’t done anything yet. But Russia scared everyone; well everyone except for Alfred, but anyone with a brain was wary of the ice nation. As such Russia wasn’t surprised by Canada’s reluctance to go with him, “It’s a simple chat really.” Russia reassured.  
Matthew felt himself cursing internally again as Russia pulled him through the door marked stairs and they started a long and winding path up. It was times like this he wished Alfred could ‘read the atmosphere.’ Hell if he could get a ‘post it note from the atmosphere’ it would’ve been awesome. Why didn’t that twin distress thing work in reverse?  
Russia smiled back at a very nervous Canada as they rounded the bend in the stairs and proceeded up.  
“Comrade Matvey. Are you seeing Comrade Gilbert by chance?”  
Oh Maple. How in the holy maple leaf? Matthew cursed to himself. He was brought out of his self berating when Russia’s smile grew larger. It freaked the twin out even more. Russia’s eyes closed as he smiled back at Canada.  
“I saw you with Comrade Gilbert just now, da?”  
Canada found his stomach sinking. They had made sure to hide so no one would find out about them. How did Russia know? Had Russia followed him? Had he watched them?  
“Uhh.” He was trying to think of anything to say when Russia spun around in front of him and faced him on the stairs. Canada suddenly felt a large amount of pressure on the wrist that Russia was still dragging him around by. Matthew felt his face start to tense from the pain. Russia smiled down at Canada.  
“I was just curious. You seemed to be very familiar with Comrade Gilbert. Am I right?” For every word he spoke the larger nation seemed to squeeze Canada’s wrist harder until the smaller nation swore something popped. “You’re going to break my wrist, Russia!” Canada cried as tried to pull his hand away.   
Russia tried to play it off as best he could. With a laugh and an apology Russia dropped Canada’s wrist and Canada pulled the bruising appendage to his chest. That had seriously hurt. Canada was also convinced he wouldn’t be able to write anything with the throbbing appendage anytime soon. He stared up at Russia and then nervously looked around the stairwell for a place to run if he needed it.   
“Vhy is it taking you so long to answer my question? Isn’t that why comrade America is stuck to you like glue today?” Russia smirked at his self assessment of the situation. Canada’s eyes grew larger still.  
“I…Alfred is a little worried. That’s all. Why do you want to know a-about Prussia?” He couldn’t keep the nervousness out of his voice as he spoke.

Outside Gilbert sat on the stairs leading up to the embassy building with a bag of some strange something in his hand. He could have cared less about what he ate. He just wanted to see Matthew again. With a heavy sigh he impatiently waited. Until he saw Britain and America come outside. He smirked their way.  
"Unawezomes!" He waved at them not aware anything was wrong. That was until he saw America's face. The twin looked worried and there were only a few things America could worry so earnestly about. It made Prussia's stomach sink long before Britain spoke.  
"Shove it Gilbert," Britain quickly said. He looked around and didn't see his son, "Where's Matthew?" Gilbert blinked in confusion and then his worry grew.  
"He went back to get his phone. Minutes ago. Didn't you see him?"

Alfred felt a jolt of fear pierce his heart. He struggled not to just panic outright. Even though they weren’t inside the meeting hall, the other countries were still milling about since it was break time. If any one of them saw Britain and America all worked up over something, then things could turn ugly. They weren’t sure who was on Russia’s side, if anyone at this point in time. It would be very bad to give away the knowledge they had of future events to the enemy by mistake.   
All the same, America hadn’t ever been the type to think ahead or plan things carefully. That had always been Arthur’s field of expertise. No…America was much more the type to do as he felt, and act first and think about it later. And right now, he felt like running through the halls screaming his brother’s name.  
All the same…he didn’t. He knew that could end up putting Matthew in even greater danger if there was more than one country to be wary of. All the same, even though Alfred was able to put a cap on his rising anxiety for once in his life, he couldn’t keep it all hidden. Much paler than usual, and already sweating, he ‘calmly’ turned to Arthur.  
“I’m going to go search the building,” he said. And before Arthur could even object, Alfred reassured him, “Don’t worry, I’ll try not to call attention to the situation.” And then he turned and hurried back inside.  
Stifling his urge to run, he instead walked swiftly through the halls turning his gaze down every hall and every door he passed. His heart pounding from within his chest, he feared that perhaps Russia had gotten Matthew trapped somewhere, like in the bathroom, or on the roof. Having no idea if Russia could perhaps lock Canada in one of the many rooms of the government building, or even if Canada was even with Russia to begin with, all he could do was search door by door, hall by hall.   
Maybe he is just in the rest room? Praying this was the case, he headed to the nearest men’s room, but just as he went to push the swing door inward, it was instead pushed out and before he knew it he was face to face with China. The two countries stopped, seeing as they were in each other’s way. But because of this, China had a few good seconds to take in America’s appearance. His large brown eyes blinked as he took him in.  
“Hey, you maybe don’t look so good,” he said. But of course, anyone would have been able to tell that, enemy or not. Alfred quickly tried to think up some sort of excuse for perhaps not appearing as his usual self. He quickly laughed it off, waving a hand in dismissal.  
“Uh…yeah! Hurricane Sandy last week really did a number on me! Still not totally over it, man,” he said awkwardly. “Err…can I get by you? I need the bathroom.”   
But Alfred was surprised when China didn’t move aside right away. Instead, he leaned in, staring harder at the super power, his eyes quite scrutinizing. China may have been a bit shorter than America, but not much ever got passed him. He was one of those countries that were really observant…unlike himself.   
“Hmm…” he mumbled. “You been acting weird all meeting. I think something may have happened other than hurricane.”   
Well that only made Alfred sweat more. Not really having any idea what to say, or how to get out of his sudden situation, he tried one more time for the bathroom.  
“Some of us have to pee dude…” And then he simply shoved his way passed, pushing China aside. China stumbled, then let out a quick huff.  
“How rude!” Once inside the bathroom, Alfred quickly checked every stall. But no one was there.   
Shit… His fear only escalating due to the entire China run-in, and in not finding Matthew in the bathroom, he quickly headed back out the swinging door. Luckily, China was gone. Time was ticking onward however, and he knew he only had maybe fifteen more minutes until the meeting started back up. He had to find Matt before then…or the whole world would know something was up. If both twins were a no show, it’d be super suspicious.   
Turning down the hall, he started to search again. But this time…his heart only raced faster, and his fear becoming almost intolerable, it was very difficult not to call out. He did however…start to walk a little faster. And his speed picked up with each empty hallway he came upon. One by one he checked them, each hall revealing itself to be empty. Down this hall there was no Matt, then on the next, there was no brother. And by the fourth empty hallway, he was jogging. Again, no Matt here, or there, or down this one. And by the eighth hallway, he was running.  
Before he knew it, he was racing through an empty building, florescent lights shining down on him from above. There was no other life around him, only stone cold walls, and slick tiled floors. And with each passing moment of nothingness, he felt that panic he was fighting start to gain ground.   
It was like living in one of the dozens’ of nightmares he’d been having. Nightmares where he would just run and run and run and never find his brother.   
His chest started to tighten; his breathing became shallow and labored with the ever growing fear. And after his entire search of the first floor was complete, he was ready to let that panic take over.  
Coming up on the last hall, only the stairwell at the end of it, he finally gave in and cried out fearfully,  
“Matthew!” 

Outside the building Britain was trying to pacify Prussia. The albino was pacing and cussing and generally making a scene. Luckily they seemed to be alone, but Britain didn’t want to push it. It was better to keep a low profile.  
“They zhould be back by now!”   
“Calm down old chap. It is not a big deal. Matthew is fine I am positive of it.” Britain said it to reassure both of them. Prussia walked over to Britain and reached out gently placing his hand over Arthur’s heart and conveniently his security badge for the embassy building.  
“I know zu are worried too. The awezome me would be faster. America’s hamburger weight is slowing himz down.” Prussia stepped away from Britain and continued to pace for a second.  
“It is a huge building, Prussia. I am sure they will be back any second.” Britain closed his eyes and nodded his head trying to not only reassure Prussia, but himself as well. Unfortunately when he reopened his eyes, Prussia was gone. Britain’s eyes grew huge as he quickly looked around and saw Prussia running towards the embassy building.  
“Ah! You wanker! Get back here!” Britain took off after Prussia.  
Prussia stormed into the building and ran up to the security check point. He quickly held out the security badge he’d just stolen, showing the security guard while conveniently covering the picture of Britain’s face. The security guard who was doing about 5 things at once waved him through. Playing it as smoothly as possible Prussia took off down the halls.  
Britain followed quickly after stopping just outside the security desk. He was shocked that Prussia had gotten through. He reached up to his chest pocket and went to show off his badge when he realized it was missing. His green eyes enlarged. He spun around looking back outside the embassy doors.   
Did I drop it outside? Suddenly his eyes grew huge as he realized the exact moment when the Prussian had stolen it. His eyebrows lowered knitting together in frustration as he heard Prussia barreling through the halls calling for America.  
“America! Where ze hell are you!” Prussia called as he ran through the halls. Prussia was one to cause scenes, so even this behavior wasn’t so odd. It wasn’t long before Prussia caught up with his boyfriend’s brother just outside the stairwell door.

Canada’s eyes darted down the stairwell door. They had walked up a flight of the winding staircase, but he could still hear his brother calling out his name. His eyes darted back towards Russia nervously.  
“Eh. It’s been nice. I should go. Alfred needs something.” Russia stared at him with that creepy smile that made Canada’s insides squirm. Canada went to turn back down the stairs when Russia reached out. He was more than a little startled when Russia’s arm reached out wrapping itself around his neck. It abruptly halted him, but the former communist wasn’t hurting him, just thoroughly freaking him out.  
“You tell my former comrade something for me, Da?” Russia said quietly and cheerfully into the Northern twin’s ear. Russia whispered something then and Matthew suddenly felt his insides freeze over. Canada also felt Russia stand up straight and with the hold he had on his neck Matthew felt his feet leave the floor. Russia was standing on a higher stair, not to mention Russia was huge anyway. Matthew panicked a bit when he felt his feet leave the floor. His feet started flailing in the air and just like that Russia dropped him forward.   
Unable to correct himself quick enough his feet rolled underneath him and he felt himself tumble forward. His face met with a lower stair before he was flipping over and rolling to a stop at the bottom of the stairs where he laid sprawled out in pain.   
Matthew let out a very loud cry as he raised his good hand to his face. A dark, purple bruise was quickly appearing below his left eye on his cheek bone. His glasses had been knocked off and were lying on the stairs. Canada had smacked the left side of his face hard against the corner of the cement stairs and a very dark purple line along his cheek bone was already starting to swell. As such Matthew clutched his face in pain as he felt blood in his mouth. He’d obviously bit something in the fall.   
Russia blinked from his spot on the stairs and then he calmly called out in a concerned way, “Comrade Matvey. Are you alright?”

America had paused just for a moment when he heard Prussia calling his name from behind him…but then…he heard his brother scream.  
“Matt!” Terrified, he burst into the stairwell just ahead of him, and when he did…he found his brother. He lay at his feet on the landing, clutching his face. Alfred spotted his glasses, scattered to the right. Alfred wasn’t sure what had happened, but he could clearly see that his little brother was hurt.  
“Matthew!” Immediately, he was kneeling at his side. Reaching out his hands, he very carefully and more gently than the other countries thought him capable of, touched his hands to Canada’s wounded face.  
He had been planning on inspecting him to see how hurt he was…but that’s when he saw the droplets of blood come from his lips. Alfred’s eyes widened.   
Again, he had no idea how this had happened. He didn’t know if Russia had punched his brother, shoved him down the stairs, or perhaps tripped him. But he did know one thing…he knew Russia had hurt his little brother. He knew this was his fault and that he’d done this on purpose.   
Lifting his gaze from his twin, America’s usually bright blue eyes flashed dangerously, and America was one of those countries that most didn’t want to piss off. His face darkened and as quickly as a cloud coming to cover the sun, he was suddenly very treacherous looking. He let a low, fearsome growl come from the back of his throat, then he carefully rose to his feet. And once he was upright, there was no hesitation. Sight fixated on his enemy, he flew forward, feet launching him up the flight of stairs effortlessly. Without a word, and in a blind rage, he drew back his fist and slammed it forward.  
There was the satisfying ‘crunch’ of his knuckles connecting and digging into Russia’s soft flesh on the left side of his face. He started to sway backward and America moved to follow, keeping his momentum. He was fully prepared to hit him again. Too angry for words, he simply let out a furious yell as he attacked. 

The first fist connected effortlessly. Russia was more than a bit surprised by America’s speed up the staircase to attack him. No witty comment? No further questions about what happened? No poking at his brother for answers? America was usually one to joke off situations after all, but this American had been quick to attack. Russia always forgot that even if America ate his far share of burgers he could still fight.   
He quickly righted himself on the stairs. The large nation planted his feet firmly, then the icy nation reached up quickly catching America’s next fist in his hand, halting him. He still had that huge smile on his face and a fair amount of strength himself. Then his purple eyes momentarily glanced down the stairs when he saw Prussia kneeling by Canada’s side. Ivan smiled as he held onto America’s hand. Russia stared into America’s eyes coldly.  
“Comrade Amerika. You can see your brother today, da? That’s new.” Russia was used to America utterly treating his twin like he was invisible. Russia remembered a few meetings when he’d accidentally sat on the Northern twin and no one seemed to notice. Why was America being like this today?   
Russia reached up and placed his free hand on America’s face. Then he roughly shoved the southern twin down the stairs. Prussia was up on his feet and running underneath the super power in order to keep him from colliding with the floor like his brother had.

There wasn’t much America could do against gravity. He felt his stomach lurch into his throat as he fell, and all he could really do was hope to God that he didn’t land on top of his already injured brother.  
But then something odd happened; he felt someone attempt to catch him. Of course, he was too heavy and he had fallen too far, but all the same, he ended up colliding with someone and landing on that person instead of the concrete.  
Having finally come to a stop, he opened his eyes to find himself…lying on top of Gilbert of all people.  
“Ah!” He cried in surprise. Alfred really had never expected anyone to try and help him. Although he was social, and had quite a few allies…he really hadn’t anyone who he was really close with who he could really call a friend. Other than family, that was about it. And so, when he saw Gilbert, he was genuinely surprised.   
“Gilbert?” Lying on top of his brother’s boyfriend, it was all he could do but to stare. “Dude, you…” but he didn’t finish. Glancing back over to his brother, who was only a few feet away, his anger and determination reignited. He was still clutching his face. Tears streaming out from under his hands from the pain he was in, blood dripping from his lips.   
There’s no fucking way I’m letting this go! Ever! Turning back to look at Gilbert, his face drastically different, he asked him, “Are you hurt?” Gilbert shook his head ‘no.’ The fire within America only grew more fierce at seeing that he suddenly had an ally with him and that he didn’t need to fight alone.  
“Come on, Gil. Let’s kick Russia’s ass!” And then he pushed himself back up, and once on his feet, he reached down, clapping his palm against Gilbert’s. He smoothly pulled the pale country up to his feet. Then the pair of them faced Russia together, neither of them looking happy. Both pairs of eyes glared up at the humungous country.  
“You’re fucking dead meat!” Alfred yelled. 

Prussia took off running up the stairs before Alfred had finished yelling. America had got a punch in and he wasn’t about to be outdone by Alfred. Gilbert pulled his fist back and punched Russia in the gut, but this only seemed to amuse the ice nation.   
Prussia had long since forgone the abilities that came with being a nation. In truth being a dead country meant he was almost human. He just didn’t seem to age at all. When his fist connected with his enemy, in truth, it did more to hurt him than it did Russia. He heard his hand crack and quickly pulled it back gearing up for another adrenaline filled attack. He would never admit it or let on that he thought he’d broken a knuckle. He knew he couldn’t hurt Russia even if he wanted to. It wasn’t going to stop him from trying though.  
“Zour fucking iron curtain iz ztill up I zee!” Prussia went to lunge forward again. Despite his discoloring hand he reached out grabbing Russia by his purple scarf and shook him, “The awzome me is going to murder you!”

“Not before me your not!” And just like that, America was at his side. Throwing his own punches, he got a good second one in. But even two on one, Russia was not a country to trifle with. A horrific wave of dingy aura seemed to perforate the air around him as he entered the fight, and even so…there was the sense that the huge nation was just toying with them, or perhaps holding back. The same creepy smile on his face as before, even after getting hit, he reached out, grabbing a hold of Prussia. Seemingly with no effort what-so-ever, he tossed the ghost nation backward and into the wall behind him. Luckily, Gilbert hit a corner and there were no stairs to fall down.  
Then, turning his attention to America, he lashed out. America ducked, prepared, then came back up with an uppercut, but Russia was prepared as well. Both large countries evaded each other’s blows for several more swings until Gilbert came back into the fray. Leaping onto Russia’s back from behind, the albino began to strangle the largest country in the world. Seeing his opening, America threw another punch, but Russia seemed to have been waiting for this. He tossed poor Prussia over his shoulder as America came in and the super power accidentally creamed his fighting partner. With another ‘crack,’ Prussia was flung back into the same wall.  
“Gil!” Briefly distracted, Russia took his opening and rushed in, sharply lifting a knee into America’s gut. America let out a brief cry, folding in on himself, and of course, stunned by the pain left him wide open for another hit. Russia didn’t waste it and immediately cracked the heel of his boot into the side of America’s jaw.   
With a cry, Alfred flew into the wall just next to Gilbert. Russia smirked at them.  
“Perhaps you underestimate me, no?” Alfred glowered, his blue eyes just as sharp as they were when the battle began.  
“Fuck no. I’m not afraid of you, and you’re not as strong as you think you are! Come on Gil!” The two prepared to launch themselves at their enemy a second time, but quite suddenly, a sharp, strong, loud cry reverberated up the stairwell.   
“SHTOPPEN!” All three countries froze at the sound of a new, but familiar voice. And before anyone had the chance to move or throw another punch, Germany was racing up the stairs. Quickly, and unhesitant, he threw himself between the three warring countries, lifting up his hands to each side.  
“Dis is a disgrace! Ve’re at a vorld meetink! A meeting designed specifically for zee purpose of helpink us solve our differencez so dat fellow countries do not fight vith von another! I can’t believe ve held the meeting for you, just to find you beating zee snot out of von another! Dis is in violation of everything dese meetings stand for! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!”  
Alfred looked to Germany, knowing full well that he understood what was happening. For several long seconds, Alfred didn’t really grasp why he had stopped them, but then he thought he got it: he was trying to protect their cover.   
Alfred smiled internally, but didn’t let it reach his face. He was finding allies in all sorts of places he never expected. Germany was trying to protect them. Alfred knew he had to play along.  
“Yeah…guess this jerk-off isn’t worth it anyway…” he grumbled. Turning his head away, he spit out a bit of blood onto the floor. Wiping at his bruising jaw, he looked down the stairs to his brother. “I’ve more important things to do anyway…”   
Turning away from Russia and Germany he started back down the stairs toward his injured family member.   
Germany remained put; standing firm and steadfast to make sure the fight was over. He glanced after America as he headed away. He had seen in the super powers face that he understood some of the reasons behind his stopping the fight. Not only was it idiotic, and would blow there cover, but there was more to it than that.  
America was the only country that didn’t seem to realize how strong Russia actually was. And as such, America was in much greater danger than he ever realized. But even another greater reason Germany stopped the fight…was for Gilbert.  
He glanced to his older brother. With a quick look over, he saw that he was hurt. He had several bruises…but worst of all was his hand. It was swelling quickly; one of his knuckles was purple and looked very painful.  
Ludwig winced internally, but dared not let Russia see it on his face. Ludwig loved his brother…and perhaps he was the only one that realized how deadly the situation actually was for Prussia. America certainly didn’t realize it, and if Russia did…he didn’t take advantage of it. But the horrible truth was…that because Prussia was no longer a country…he could get hurt, and die, just like a regular human. And as soon as Germany heard that there was a fight…fear had pierced his heart. He couldn’t let his brother get hurt. He didn’t heal like the other countries.   
Germany didn’t dare go to his brother in front of Russia, in fear that the huge country would figure this out, if he hadn’t already. Instead, pretending that he didn’t exactly care, he faced Russia instead.  
“You should get back to zee meeting hall. I’ll help dese others back myself.”   
It was then that a cute little brunette poked his head into the stairwell, his eyes full of both curiosity and worry.  
“Germania? Is everything-a ay-ok now? Can I come out?” Ludwig winced in seeing Italy. The situation was already dangerous, and he didn’t want Russia anywhere near the naïve country.   
“Feliciano! Stay vhere you are! I’ll be right down!” 

Russia’s ever present smile never faltered.  
“Da. I think I will head back now. I wouldn’t want to be late.” He stared down the stairwell at the North American twins then over at Gilbert who wasn’t getting up. Then he turned to walk up the stairs, “I will see you all there, da? Comrade Matvey please be more careful in the future, da.” A few more steps and Russia walked up the stairs and through the door leading back into the building’s second floor and was gone.  
The comment was almost enough to get Gilbert up off of the floor. He glared as Russia retreated up the stairs, and he probably would have gone after him if he hadn’t gotten a look from Ludwig. Gilbert cringed in pain. His body was aching in ways that would still hurt for days to come. Once Russia was gone he stared down the stairs at his boyfriend.  
“M-Matthew.” He called out and used the wall to stagger to his feet. He was going to Matthew’s side one way or another.  
Russia’s comment might have been enough to send America after Russia again if Canada wasn’t holding his brother’s hand by this time. He had his injured wrist lying over his chest and with his good hand he tightly held onto Alfred’s; Alfred could see that the left side of Matthew’s face was swollen. His cheek bone was either cracked or broken and it was causing his eyes to swell shut. Alfred would also be able to note the purple ring around Matthew’s wrist that was lying on his shoulder. The Northern brother looked at America, a sad, apologetic look in his eyes as he squeezed his worried brother’s hand.  
“I’m sorry,” was all he could think of to say to his brother. He hated seeing that look on his brother’s face. America was all worked up again and Canada knew his brother’s stress level was through the roof once more. He knew Alfred would feel guilty he’d gotten hurt, but he wanted to save his brother from it. He really didn’t want to see his brother suffer from this even if he knew it was impossible.  
A second later Prussia was at Matthew’s side reaching out and gently placing both his hands on Matthew’s shoulder.  
“Matthew. I got your glasses.” Canada smiled at the unusually soft spoken Prussian. Once again Matthew tried to reassure the two nations.  
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Really.” It was kind of hard to be reassuring when blood kept running out of the corner of his mouth. He’d sliced his tongue open rather well on his way down the stairs and it had yet to stop bleeding.

America was silent for once in his life as his brother spoke to him and held his hand in support. His own face was throbbing from the hit he’d taken from Russia, but he knew it was nothing compared to what Matthew must have been feeling. For several long moments, he didn’t say a word, he simply sat by his brother’s side, his breathing heavy with distress.   
But then the moment came when Alfred simply couldn’t control himself. Damn it all if the other countries saw him be emotional. He was at the point where he was no longer concerned with such trivial things. Reaching out, he grabbed his little brother, and then pulled him up and into his arms. Taking him in against his chest, he wrapped both of his arms around his brother, squeezing him tightly. Bowing his face against his good cheek so as not to hurt him, he let his fear beat its way out of his speeding heart. He was sure Canada could feel it…but he didn’t care. Although Alfred didn’t talk about it, and had been trying to hide it the past week or so…he was sure Matthew already knew how scared he was. The only change now…was that perhaps he was now letting Gilbert, Germany and Italy know too.   
They’re friends… he had to remind himself. It’s ok.   
And so, he held his brother, for quite a long time.   
Germany saw and he understood. He wanted to do the same with his own brother but…he wasn’t as free with his emotions. He loved his brother…and he was worried about his injuries…but…they would deal with that behind closed doors. Germany had never been one for public displays of affection. Hell…he even had a hard time with it when he wasn’t in public. And so, when he calmly walked back down the stairs and to the landing where everyone else was, he casually went to his older brother.   
“Vhat vas that all about? Vhat vas Russia trying to accomplish?” Italy, oddly enough, was quiet for once. But he did run back over to Germany’s side when he came to the landing. 

Matthew buried his face in his brother’s neck. He knew Alfred needed him right now. Matthew could feel Alfred’s heart racing in his chest. He felt Prussia put his hand on his head as Alfred held him closely. Canada returned the gesture by reaching out and gently wrapping his good arm around his brother.  
“It’s ok, Al. I-I don’t know if he meant to make me fall or not. I’ll be ok. It just hurts.”   
“I donz give a fuck if he meant to or not.” Prussia said through clenched teeth, “Itz hiz fault.” Canada hugged his brother tighter. He buried his face into his brother’s shoulder and hid his worried face for a moment.  
“Gi-gilbert. Russia told me t-to tell you he’d t-talk to you soon.” Canada’s tone was quiet and laced with worry as he said the words. He wasn’t worried about betrayal, but he was terrified of the idea of his boyfriend facing the crazed country. Prussia’s eyes formed an even darker glare as Canada said it.  
“Goodz. I’d love to hitz him again.” Prussia didn’t skip a beat as he said the words. He truly wanted to hit Russia again even if he couldn’t do any real damage, it would make him feel better. Prussia let his hand slide from Matthew’s head and onto his back supportively. He bit his lower lip for a moment, but he had to say what was on his mind.  
“Matthew. I- I wantz to go back to your houze with you. I’m sure America has to go back to work. All of you have to work, but I donz. I canz ztay there. I wonz leave you alone.” He gently clutched the fabric on the back of Matthew’s jacket. “We zhould get you back to the hotel. Yourz not going back to the meeting are you?”  
Canada shook his head no.  
“I wouldn’t go back like this. It’d be a mess. No one will notice me being absent anyway.” He squeezed his brother a bit tighter. If America was absent at the meeting though many eyebrows would be raised. “Most of the super powers aren’t at the meeting.” He looked around the stairwell at everybody. “We need to hurry. This could blow our cover.” Matthew squeezed his brother tightly. He had to stress the importance of their cover to his brother. “Alfred. You have to go back to the meeting. Everyone will know something is wrong if you don’t.”

Alfred wanted to object so terribly. More than anything, but…he knew his brother was right. And what was more…was that things were different now that he’d fought alongside Gilbert. That simple act had made America trust him so much more than he ever would have before. Viewing Gilbert as an ally now, instead of a threat, he nodded. He knew Gilbert would watch over Matthew for him and keep his little brother safe. And so, he found the courage to pull back and away from him, but he still kept a firm grip on his brother’s shoulders. Looking at him, with complete sincerity he said,  
“Lots of countries will notice your missing…” he said. “Lots. Not just me, but Britain and France and Germany and Italy.” And of course Russia, but there was no way Alfred was including him in that list. “You’re not invisible little bro…you’ll never be invisible again, ok?” He squeezed his shoulder tightly, almost painfully to make sure he understood him. Alfred held his gaze, his blue eyes quite serious. 

Matthew felt the corner of his mouth twitch as his brother stared at him with that serious somewhat melancholy expression. Matthew still wasn’t used to his brother behaving in such brotherly ways. Alfred looked like he so desperately needed Matthew to know he wasn’t invisible anymore. It was odd to see Alfred acting like the big brother he’d always claimed to be.  
Matthew could really care less which one of them had come into existence a moment before the other. They’d always been a part of each other’s lives. It really didn’t matter who was older, but Matthew had always fought with his brother over the title of being the oldest because Alfred’s nonchalant attitude and general silliness always made Canada feel like he was the mature one. Alfred had always offered to help Matthew in every situation, true, but Matthew was fairly independent and had never really needed his brother’s help before.   
Canada found his mind wandering for a moment. He had no idea how this situation had played out in the alternate time line. He was guessing that if his brother’s future self hadn’t come to him, things would be a lot different at this very moment, but he didn’t dwell on the thoughts.  
A smile came to the gentle nations face. With Alfred acting this way he was finally starting to act just like a big brother should. Matthew had wanted to be closer to his family members for a long time now. Seeing his brother worried about his well being made Matthew feel like he really wasn’t invisible anymore. Matthew nodded at his brother letting Alfred know that he truly did understand.  
“I know Alfred. I know I’m not invisible anymore. ”  
The sappy moment may have lasted a bit longer, but Matthew blinked when he felt Prussia playing with the hood of his jacket from behind. He turned from his brother to his boyfriend. Prussia pulled the brown hood of Canada’s coat gently over Canada’s head. It wasn’t cold out, but Prussia was trying to hide his boyfriends beat up face. He didn’t want anyone to notice Canada’s condition as they left. Prussia looked at Matthew sadly.  
“Sorry you gotz hurt Matthew. I’ll take care of you nowz. Letz get out of herez. America, we will zee you tonight, ok? I will go withz Matthew back to his room. Britain haz your phone, birdie. It’z outside wid him. Matthew text America when we get to your room zo he doezn’t have to worriez.” Prussia looked back at his younger brother, “I havz mine phone. If you needz me you know where I’ll be.” Prussia pulled Canada’s arm over his shoulder and with America and Germanys’ help the two got to their feet.   
Germany could see that something about Prussia’s hand was wrong. The appendage was severely swollen and the bruise that had stated at his middle knuckle had extended passed his knuckle up into his fingers and midway down his hand, but Prussia drew no attention to it. He also didn’t mention the fierce pain he felt in his left lower back. The pain in his back had started when he’d been tossed into the wall some time ago, but he ignored it all for the sake of his boyfriend and appearing tough. The two left the embassy building as quickly and quietly as possible. They met Britain outside and got Matthew’s phone then left via a taxi. 

Alfred, Ludwig and Feliciano watched Matthew and Gilbert head on down the hallway and toward the front of the building. After they were sure the pair was ok and on their way back to the hospital, they headed out of the stairwell and into the hallway themselves. It was time to get back to the meeting before they were really missed for long.  
“Dat bruize on your face…are you allright?” Germany asked quickly.   
“Yeah, it doesn’t even hurt. It’s nothing,” America said, and he meant it too. He’d had far worse, and being a strong country, he was sure it would heal in a day anyway.  
“All zee same, Russia ‘as a few bruizes too. It’ll be obvious you two fought. Ve should just neglect to meantion dat it had anythink to do vith Canada or Prussia.” America waved Germany off a second time.  
“Yeah, yeah. I know how to play things down. Don’t worry man, I got this.”  
“Do you?” And it was Germany’s tone of voice that gave America pause. Blinking, he stopped walking, then turned around to face the hardened country. His blue eyes narrowed.  
“What’re ya saying Germany?” And it was more of an accusation than a question. Still, Germany stood firm and didn’t flinch under America’s stare.   
Italy was keeping oddly silent. But Germany knew perfectly well to as why. He’d never admit it out loud, but he knew damned well that Italy sensed his moods and his needs at all times. And regardless of what Germany thought about it, Italy always did what he thought was best for his partner. And at the moment, he knew he needed to speak seriously to America for a second.  
“America,” Germany started. “You’ve been acting quite differently lately. I know vhy, of course, but I think it’z becomink obvious to zee other countries. Dis could be dangerous for us.” Alfred scoffed.  
“Whatever dude. I don’t think it’s such a bad thing that I’m getting a little closer to my bro. Actually, I probably should have done this a long time ago.”  
“I agree,” Germany said, nodding. “Unt if ve vere in any other situation, I’d say good for you, about time, but ve’re not. Because our enemies are plottink somezing against us, it’s very unwize for you to display any sort of weakness. To suddenly show signs of compassion over night is appearink strange to everyone. Russia unt whoever else may be siding vith him during dis time, may look at dat and try to exploit it. Dat and your blatant disregard for your own countries issues is raisink eyebrows.”  
Alfred winced as if suddenly slapped in the face. He quickly scowled, clearly insulted.  
“Dude that’s not cool! I am concerned about my country! How dare you say I’m not! I’ve got that damned fiscal cliff hanging over my head every second of the damned day! Do you think I don’t notice? Just because I’m spending time with Canada doesn’t mean I don’t also have time for my duties! You know what? This is ridiculous! I don’t have to stand here and get lectured by you! Up until last week, we hardly ever even spoke to each other!”  
“Amerika, calm down! I’m tryink to help you!” Germany sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. Perhaps America was even more stressed out than even he had realized. He knew America was a country that was very good at hiding his troubles. He paraded himself around as if everything were a party all the time. Even when things were dark and troubled for Americans they found a way to smile and have fun.   
Germany, being a different country, never knew if they truly had this type of unbreakable spirit, or if it was a ruse created to not only fool other countries into thinking they were ok, but also to fool themselves from facing the bleakness of reality. But Germany had always thought, along with most every other country, that most of it was genuine. Alfred really did love to have fun, and smile, and make others laugh. So to suddenly see him so worked up was odd for Germany.   
Then again…we’ve never been friends before. Perhaps he only lets his troubles show for those close to him. Whatever the case, Ludwig knew he had to finish his point.  
“Alfred,” And this caught America’s attention for the simple fact that he wasn’t sure if Germany had ever used his human name before. It was far, far more personal than what he was used to. “Alfred…I ‘ave a bruder too. I’m also vorried. Very, very vorried about Gilbert. He’s not a country like zee rest of us. He could get really hurt…”   
America watched in amazement as he thought he saw a flicker of emotion cross the German’s face. Ludwig was always so cold, at least so he seemed. Like a stone or a wall, his face was always completely unreadable. The only emotion Alfred had ever seen from him was frustration or anger. But here…this was the first time he saw something else. It immediately caught his attention and made him pay better attention to his ally.   
“So…because ve both ‘ave bruders, you can believe me vhen I say I understand. But because ve’re bruders, ve ‘ave to do vhat’s best for dem. Right?” America nodded numbly in agreement, still a little shocked that Germany was showing him a more human side to himself and talking to him like a person rather than a country.  
“So, because of dis, you should try to act more like you used to. Ve must protect Gilbert and Mattew from zee enemy. In order to do dat, ve need to vait unt see what Russia is planning to say to Gilbert. Ve can’t let him know ve’re onto him. So, vhen ve get back to zee meeting hall…I suggest you focus solely on your countries issues unt yourself, as you used to. Dis is zee best way to keep our bruders safe.”   
America was silent for a good long second or two. So was Italy, even though Alfred could see it was very difficult for the smaller country to keep his mouth closed about much of anything. He seemed ready to burst. But finally, after an obvious internal debate with himself, Alfred faced Germany and nodded. Then, flashing his usual grin, he lifted his hand and gave the other country a thumbs-up.  
“Can do Ludwig,” he said, returning the use of the human name instead of the country. “Now, we should bust the hell outta here! Everyone’s gotta be freaking that America isn’t at the meeting! Hahaha! They obviously can’t start without me!”   
Germany watched as the super power gloated, then turned his back and began marching down the hallway, looking as confident and as energetic as always. It was what Germany had been going for…but all the same…he felt a little sad.   
Ludwig knew what it felt like to hide all of his real emotions inside. He did it every second of every day. He had to. He knew no other way to be. Ludwig didn’t wish that for anyone else. And he’d wished to God that Alfred didn’t have to now do it too. But for the time being…it was what would keep them all safe from Russia. All the same, he’d hated suggesting it to the usually carefree nation. Alfred was best when he was being himself, just like anyone.  
Reaching up, Italy quickly wrapped both of his arms around Germany’s back. Holding him from behind, he buried his nose in the stiff countries uniform. And then, in a much quieter voice than usual, he said,  
“Ludwig…is-a-so smart, and-a-so brave…” As always Ludwig felt his insides warm at Feliciano’s touch and his words. But the rush of emotion that always hit him when the other country got so close was always, every single time, too sudden and too startling for him to know how to handle. So, he reacted the way he always did, by blushing, then quickly shoving the smaller country away.   
“Get off of me you schwachkopf...” But also, as always, Italy wasn’t that easily deterred. He loved Ludwig, and he knew that what the hardened country needed most was affection, despite his sometimes harsh reactions to it. And so, grinning from ear to ear, Italy then proceeded to leap onto Germany’s back.  
“Augh!”  
“Germania! Germania! Carry me to the-a-meeting hall!”  
“Oi! Get off of me! I’m not a camel!”  
But somehow, someway, even with all of the shenanigans, the three countries made it back to the meeting hall, even if they were grotesquely late.


	10. Ghost Nation

Chapter 10  
Ghost Nation

 

Once back in Canada’s hotel room Gilbert sat on the couch with his boyfriend. The events of the day were weighing on their minds, and silence was the best remedy at the moment. Canada was staring up at the ceiling thinking through the events of the day He wasn’t paying that much attention to what was going on around him.   
As soon as Prussia collapsed onto the couch the albino nation felt like he was going to throw up. He tried to keep his growing pain hidden from Canada, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. His albino skin couldn’t get any paler could it? He felt sweat covering his body. This wasn’t normal pain like he was used to.   
He tried to think of the last time he’d been injured, seriously injured. He hadn’t had any serious injuries in ages. Not since he’d been a nation. What ze hell is going on? He thought to himself as a shiver shot up his spine. He felt his body start to tremble, but he fought hard to control it. He barely heard Matthew say something off to his side. His ears were ringing and the words were slurred. Prussia couldn’t understand the conversation. He suddenly felt confused and dizzy.  
Matthew had noticed a change in Prussia since they’d settled in the apartment. He thought back, and he realized that once they’d walked away from the others Gilbert seemed to pull into himself. He was quiet and acting withdrawn. It wasn’t like him at all. Matthew looked at him it looked like he was dazed. Matthew repeated his question,  
“Gilbert. Are you alright?” Matthew saw that Gilbert had his eyes closed like he was concentrating hard at something. It looked like he was trying to control the pain he was in. Then Matthew noted that his boyfriend was covered in sweat. Is he shaking? What the hell? Matthew reached out placing his hand on Prussia’s shoulder.   
“Gilbert. What’s wrong?” Matthew saw Gilbert reach down and wrap his arms around his abdomen protectively. Matthew reached out and attempted to touch Gilbert’s left side. Canada was completely caught off guard when his boyfriend tried to frantically swat him away with a feral scream of pain. Prussia fell over and away from Canada, obviously in a great amount of pain. He quieted down and even though he was silent Canada could tell something was seriously wrong. Canada felt his eyes widen but he didn’t try to touch Gilbert in any way.  
“Gilbert!” Canada cried, “What’s wrong?”  
Gilbert didn’t respond as he continued to hold his gut tightly. He could still hear Canada’s voice, but Prussia was so dazed at the moment he couldn’t make his voice work. He was convinced if he opened his mouth he would only be able to scream in pain. I have to protect him. Get up zu uzelezz Now iz notz the timez to layz down. Prussia berated himself, but he was stuck. He let out a shaky breath as the pain in his side flared.  
“Gott…” He managed a weak whisper. It was surprising contrast to the scream he’d been thinking about only moments ago. The pain was still fierce, but there was an overwhelming exhaustion that was quickly overwhelming him.   
Canada had no idea what was wrong with his boyfriend, but whatever it was he knew it was serious. Canada pulled out his phone and dialed for the emergency services of the area. The next 30 minutes seemed to all happen so fast but also in slow motion all at the same time for the terrified Northern country. The paramedics came to the hotel. Gilbert’s condition had gotten worse by then. He had become unresponsive as he was loaded onto the gurney. Matthew stayed by his side all the way to the hospital, then in the halls, and all the way to emergency surgery when he was told he’d have to wait outside. Matthew did as the doctor told him, and he waited outside in the hallway.   
He felt his heart sinking with every minute that passed by. When a nurse came out saying Gilbert was in surgery and gave Matthew Gilbert’s coat and personal items the Northern nation found his eyes filling with tears. He was barely able to contain himself as the nurse said that emergency surgery was being performed in order to repair trauma to the albino’s lacerated spleen. Then he was left alone for some time.   
Eventually, Matthew pulled his phone out and sat staring at it. It had been a while since he’d left the world meeting. He was certain the other countries were already debating, talking, and arguing again in the meeting hall. He had to let Ludwig know about this though. Prussia was in surgery for maple’s sake. Matthew found Prussia’s phone in his coat pocket and quickly looked up Germany’s number. He sent Germany a quick text simply saying,  
‘This is Matthew. Gilbert has a lacerated spleen. He is in emergency surgery. I will be here.’  
Then he sent an additional text to his brother stating the same thing. Then he found himself waiting. Gilbert will be fine, he reassured himself. He would most likely be back at 100% by tomorrow. Still it was rare that nations had such trips to the hospital. It did happen, but generally only when extreme meds were needed to manage pain or from severe injuries that were suffered from direct attacks on their land. Was Russia really strong enough to do this kind of damage to Gilbert in a fist fight? How had Gilbert gotten so injured from a simple punch even if it was Russia who had done it? Canada's mind whirled as he thought about the situation and waited.

Back in the meeting hall, things were in full-swing even though they’d already gone over their allotted time limits. They were supposed to have adjourned thirty minutes ago, but everyone knew that wouldn’t be happening. As always, things had disintegrated into chaos. For several minutes there’d been nothing but shouting. It had been up to Germany, as usual to restore order. Giving everyone more minutes to work with, they tried again to talk a few things out.   
At least America was acting more like himself as Germany had suggested. But all the same, he couldn’t help but to see the strain it put on the young country to hide his concern over his missing brother and to witness that in truth…no one else seemed to care that Canada wasn’t there. He could see it only because he knew what a perfect front looked like, and America had one up right then.  
“Dudes! I told you! Finances will be fine! The European market doesn’t need to worry, and for that matter, they don’t always have to copy everything I do anyway!”  
“Oh that’s rich coming from someone who has a six trillion dollar debt!” One of the smaller European nations screamed across the table. And China immediately jumped on that bandwagon next.  
“And you still owe most of that money to China!”  
“Hey hey! HEY!” America shouted over the noise. “How fair is that? How many times have I lent money to all of you? Huh? And this one time, this one fucking time you can’t give me some leeway? Luxembourg, you wanna cough up that 78 billion you owe me? Apparently China over here, can’t wait a few fucking months, so I’m just gunna have to call in your debt now dude.”   
Poor Luxembourg, a tiny little country, shrunk back and shook his head, trying to hide in his seat at the end of the table.   
“Oh that’s nice America! Real nice! Make me out to be badguy!” China cried.   
The shouting continued and Germany was at the point where he was about to bark out orders again to get everyone to settle back down, but…that was when his phone rang. It was on vibrate, of course, he didn’t want to interrupt their meeting (even if it was just a boxing match at that point.) Picking it out of his pocket, he found he had a text message. Opening it up, he read it quickly.   
As soon as he did, his heart fell out of his chest and instead landed in his feet. He felt his fingers and toes go cold. Gilbert…was in the hospital.  
He wanted to panic, but he was too good for that. Germany knew their situation. He couldn’t just call out to America and then have both of them leave together. That would be odd considering no one else knew that the two usually estranged countries were now, quite suddenly friends. But there was no way he could leave without telling him what was happening. Torn, he wasn’t sure how to proceed.  
That was…until Italy came up beside him. Having read his text message over his shoulder, and knowing exactly what Germany’s problem was, the cute, little country smiled up at his protector.   
“I’ll-a-take care of it Ludwig, ve!” And before Germany could even ask what he meant or what he was panning, Italy turned to the room of screaming, fighting countries. Raising his hand he quickly shouted.  
“PIZZAAAAAHHH!” Everyone froze, mid sentence it seemed, at the complete random, oddness of the exclamation. Looking over to Italy, America’s fist still in the air as he’d been shouting some sort of accusation and China with his finger pointed at the super power in mid-defense, all the other countries gaped.  
“What?” One of them finally questioned.  
“Ve! The meeting is-a-now adjourned! I’m-a-waaaay too hungry to continue without some-a-sort-a deliciousness! Besides, aren’t we-a-all-a-late already?”   
And with the mention of food, and because it was indeed late, a lot of the countries were hungry. And with talk of pizza, and deliciousness, everyone’s attention was quite sharply turned to their stomachs instead of their financial issues. And just like that, with grumblings toward the each other, they started to pack up.  
“Like stubborn America would listen anyway…” China was groaning. “He never listen to anyone but himself!”   
“You got that right,” America agreed. Everyone grabbed their jackets and briefcases, packing up any papers they’d used. And then the countries started to file out of the meeting hall doors. America had started to do the same, eager to get to his brother’s hotel room to check on him when Germany called out.  
“America, vait a moment.” But he’d seen a few heads turn at the shout. It was odd for Germany to want to talk to anyone privately after all. “Err…ve need to discuss dat bit of business about your tourism in my country…” Germany quickly covered. It was enough to make any straggling countries lose interest, but it was enough to keep Alfred’s. Still not the best at picking up on people’s moods, especially not Germany’s, America jogged on over to him while the others left.  
“Sure dude!” He said cheerfully. “Are we not partying hard enough while we’re on vacation? Hahaha!” Germany didn’t respond. Instead he watched the door until all the other countries were gone…with exception of Britain, who remained by his seat, his green eyes glued to America and Germany. Germany nodded his way, letting him know it was fine if he joined them. And even as the older country started to walk over, Germany told Alfred the bad news.   
Germany watched as the younger countries smile was stolen from his face. He paled, and within seconds he seemed like the same Alfred he’d spoken to in the hallway before the meeting began.   
“Come on…let’s hurry.”  
Germany, America, Italy and Britain all shared a cab. All four rushed to the hospital. And within minutes they were there. Running through the front sliding doors, America was in the lead. And as soon s he entered the building, he scanned the waiting room for his little brother. 

Canada had paced all the hallways on the first floor of the hospital. When that had failed to relieve his stress he had looked through the gift shop for anything that he could give his boyfriend. His anxiety was mounting, and he just fiddled with items on the shelves before sitting them down.  
When he had tried the front desk at the hospital again he had found out that Prussia was still in surgery, and he’d have to wait at least another hour. As such Canada had retreated to the front waiting room with a mood of utter distress. He had pulled his hood down and had forgotten completely about his own grim looking face.   
When a passing nurse tried to help him he said he was fine. He asked for information on Gilbert, but he didn’t get anything new. The nurse had been kind enough to go and get him an ice pack for his red eyes. The nurse came and went then promised to tell him if she found out anything. As such he was stuck waiting once more.  
He had slowly faded off into oblivion when the other four nations came into the waiting room. It was the quick movement that caught his eye and made him look over, and he saw his brother leading the pack. He didn’t get to his feet. This day had just sucked. He had utterly lost the will to do anything, so it was a good thing he’d skipped the last part of the meeting. Matthew looked back over to Ludwig and then back at Alfred who was getting closer. He didn’t have any news to tell them, and that was killing him. As Alfred came closer Canada tried to explain what had happened in a calm voice, but he was panicked. He couldn’t hide it.  
“H-he was acting really weird when we went back to the h-hotel room. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell.” He reached up pushing his palm against his forehead. “He was in so mu-much pain. I called the paramedics. They took him into surgery, but no one will tell me anything. I-I don’t get it! Russia’s not that strong, right? Gilbert will be ok, right?”   
He hated looking and sounding so upset, but his boyfriend had looked so fragile when he’d last seen him. Canada had never seen a nation look so weak. Canada looked up at Germany with a grief stricken face.  
"He was bleeding internally. I'm guessing ever since the fight. I- I saw his hand too. I think he broke something."  
A doctor came over to the group a clipboard in hand. He looked at the ragtag bunch who seemed a bit mismatched at best, but when he asked if they'd come in with the 'awezome' albino Matthew was on his feet in a flash.  
"Yes! Yes! Where is he!? Is he ok?" The doctor nodded perhaps saving Matthew from the mini heart attack he was having as he clutched his boyfriend's jacket. The doctor pointed down the hallway.  
"He's in recovery. He lost a large amount of blood, but we gave him a blood transfusion and he will pull through just fine. He’s resting at the moment. It will still be some time before he can have visitors.”  
Canada nodded, and the group was left to wait some more. Eventually they were allowed back. Canada held onto his brother's hand as he walked off down the hallway. After this hellish time he wanted his brother to be close by, and he was sure Alfred wanted that too. He practically ran into the recovery room where Prussia was lying in bed and currently cussing every other word as a nurse went about putting a cast on his hand.  
"Zeriously." The albino said in a quiet tone, "you donz needz to do zhat. Ze awezome me needs no damn cazt." He looked over as the two North American twins barged into the room. A smile came to his drugged face.  
"Matthew. Unawezome." Gilbert smirked at America's nickname and gave them both a weak thumbs up. The nurse attending to his arm did something that made him cry out in an old Prussian dialect that no one understood anymore. A second later Gilbert saw his brother enter the room.  
"West! Tell zhem I don't needz 'dis! I am the awezome Prussia, dammit!" Canada ran to his boyfriend's bedside, recovering from some of the trauma of the day now that he saw Prussia was alive, talking, and ok. Even if he was lying in bed with tubes sticking in his arm giving him blood, plasma, and pain meds.

Alfred was at Gilbert’s bedside as soon as Matthew was, mainly because his brother was dragging him around like his stuffed bear. But…he didn’t mind. And he was glad to see Gilbert was ok.  
“You stupid ghost nation! You scared the hell outta Mattie!” But he wasn’t really angry, and in fact, Prussia would be able to tell that this was America’s weird way of saying he was glad he was ok. “Now that I’ve put you in charge of taking care of my bro when I’m not around, you better think seriously about being tougher!” He clapped Gilbert on the back, but not nearly as hard as he usually did. Even America could be mindful from time to time.  
Britain had gone off to fetch tea for everyone, as such it was only Ludwig and Feliciano left standing in the doorway. Ludwig looked in on Gilbert, watching the three countries interact with a blank expression on his face. No one else would have been able to tell, but Italy saw very easily how upset Ludwig actually was. Perhaps it was the deep caring he had for Germany that let him see the ever so slightly paler color to his skin than usual, or the beading sweat that was starting to form on his temples. Germany didn’t move, or frown, or even breath more quickly than usual…but Italy had always been able to read his ice blue eyes, even when he wasn’t looking at him.  
He was worried. And he was in pain. Italy knew no one else would ever see it, or be able to understand it because Germany hid himself away so carefully and so thoroughly and in such an orderly way so that nothing from the outside could come in and bring him more suffering. Ludwig guarded himself more completely than the gates of Rome once had. He had built his walls and put up his fences and dug is moats and ditches and had done all he could to seal himself away, completely and forever; to ensure that no one ever got into his heart again. To ensure that he never suffered in the same ways that he had already been made to endure.  
Italy knew him. Completely and totally. And perhaps he was the only one on all the earth who could look at his stone-cold face and his ice-blue eyes and truly see how much pain he was really in. Italy could see it clear as day…no matter how good he was at hiding himself away from everyone and everything. Germany even hid from himself. But there was a deep, despondent loss in him, an ache that never ceased. And as soon as Italy had seen it…he had dedicated himself to easing that hurt. And no matter how long it took, or how persistent he had to be, he was one day going to succeed.  
Germany had suffered greatly, and deeply. The other countries had already forgotten, but Italy knew Germany had not. He couldn’t. Because the hardship he’d had to endure had lasted so long, and had been repeated so many times, that it had eventually become a part of who he was. And so, Italy knew he couldn’t change. But he didn’t want him to. He loved him for who he was, even the sad parts. And he knew, the only way to make it a little bit better, was to make sure Ludwig had good, new, memories to work forward from. And so, each and every day, Italy knew he’d be there for him.  
And this was one of those many moments, when Italy knew he needed him.  
Reaching up, the brunette gently rested his hand on Ludwig’s shoulder. Ludwig exhaled slowly, then shifted his gaze to the smaller country. There, as always, he found him smiling.  
“Gilbert’s a-ok. Isn’t that great news?” And Ludwig, in simply seeing Italy’s adorable smile, and hearing his offered words of encouragement, did indeed feel a little better, even though he was terrified for his brother. The very corner of his mouth cracked upward, ever so slightly as he rested his cool eyes on his partner.   
“Ja.” And just like that, he found the courage he needed to enter the hospital room. Italy knew Germany was too afraid to get close to him in front of others, so as always; he reached out his arms and wrapped them around Germany’s. Even when he stiffened from his touch, he knew perfectly well that this was what Germany wanted and needed, even if he might object in front of the other countries from time to time. This time however, he didn’t say a word as the pair approached Gilbert’s bed together.   
Stepping up beside his older brother, Ludwig gazed down at him, his face still rather stony. All the same, Gilbert was perhaps the only other person on the planet who could read Ludwig a little bit. He did raise him after all. Gilbert may not have been as good at it as Italy…for no one could be that intune unless they were in love, but he could at least tell that his little brother was worried for him.  
“You schwachkopf!” Germany suddenly yelled. “Dis is vhat you get for gettink into idiotic fights vith countries who are bigger den you! You’re not a nation anymore! You don’t heal like zee rest of us!”  
And of course, Italy only smiled. He knew, even if the northern twins didn’t, that sometimes when Ludwig yelled, it was only because he cared and had been frightened. 

Prussia rolled his eyes as his younger brother yelled.  
“Ke. West. Stopz yelling in my ear. That arsch made mein Matthew fall down the stairs. Whatz vould you do if he had pushed Italy down ze stairz? You vould have pummeled him too.” Matthew held Prussia’s good hand tightly. A look of worry on his face.  
“What does he mean you don’t heal like us?” Prussia sighed settling onto the uncomfortable mattress.  
“I donz healz like you anymore. I vill probably havz a broken hand for the next few weekz. I vill have to be on stupid bedzrest until my spleen heals. It iz ztupid, but itz because I’m a ghost nation. I’m more like a human thiz way.”   
Prussia looked up at his little brother. He could easily see Germany was upset whereas most nation’s would see a simple, stern stare, “Geeze West. Don’t act zo ztuffy.” Prussia let a grin overtake his face. He recognized many of his brother’s moods. He also knew when he could perhaps make his younger brother blush, “Youz got into plenty of ztupid fightz vhen you were a kid, bruder. I remember when you camez home crying that timez when you were little.” Prussia’s cocky smirk returned as he looked over at Italy.  
“Do you remember, West? Italy did he tell you? He gotz in a fight whenz he waz a little thing. Gotz the snot beat out of himz. He came home crying too big bruder.” Prussia chuckled at the memory. He never got to take care of Ludwig anymore. He missed those time. He used to be invincible in his brother's eyes. Now he was a cripple in a hospital bed.

Germany scoffed as he set his teeth together. He sent an insulted look his brother’s way.  
“Ja, vell, vhen I vas a new country it seemed everyone in all da world vanted a piece of me! I don’t ever recall havink a moment’s peace!” Italy only seemed to hold onto his arm all the harder, squeezing him tightly.   
“Unt vhy are you tryink to embarrass me anyvay? Is dis da thanks I get for visiting you in zee hospital?” It all seemed a little tense, and as America and Canada watched the German brother’s interact, America couldn’t help but to lean in a bit closer to his own brother and whisper,  
“They’re so weird. Our relationship is waaay cooler than theirs.” 

Matthew jabbed his twin in the ribcage in order to hush him up. He didn't want to insult Germany or Prussia. Heavens knew the younger Germanic brother already looked tense.  
“If the awezome me really wanted to embarrass you, West, I would have done it by now.” His grin widened as he stared up at his younger brother. In truth he did have plenty of stories that would surely make the stern nation blush, especially with the North American twins in the room and not to mention Italy. He could have brought up bath times, bed times, dinner times, times when the blond haired child had refused to sleep by himself because of nightmares, and many other stories that had come from Germany's childhood.   
Luckily he didn't. Prussia thought of those times fondly for a moment. Maybe it was the brush with death that made him a bit nostalgic. He missed the little kid who looked up to him and thought he was the best thing in the world.  
“Donz be zo cranky, Ludwig. If zee hopzpital makes you uncomfortable you can go.” Prussia looked at his brother. A look of compassion came across his red eyes. He knew his brother cared deeply for him. Germany had proved that by letting his brother live in his home all these years after all.   
“I didn’tz mean to upzet you. I am not dying.” It was that moment when the nurse finished with the cast. It would permanently hold his hand in place while the bone healed. He still had the tips of his fingers exposed, but it extended from just above his knuckles all the way to his forearm. Prussia held up his hand looking unamused, “Shizer. What ze hell am I zupposed to do with thiz?” Canada looked from Prussia to Germany.   
“Just so I’m clear. If... he gets hurt, like seriously hurt…he will die? So if I hadn't brought him to the hospital when I did he could have bled to death?”  
A stern nod from Germany made Canada sigh heavily, “We’re the only ones that know. Gilbert, Russia can't see you with your arm like that. If he figures out you don't heal like the rest of us he could seriously use that to his advantage.” Matthew felt his grip tighten on his boyfriend.  
“The world meeting will last for a few more days. I don't think anyone will care if I don't show up. I'll stay with Gilbert.” Canada looked back at his twin for confirmation of that plan, “No one said anything today, right?” He wanted to make sure Russia hadn't pointed it out that he was absent. Russia was the only one Matthew was worried about making a scene. No one else would notice, and for once that worked to his advantage.

Alfred glanced away from his brother, something like discomfort or perhaps sadness coming over his face.  
“No…no one noticed…” he mumbled. “I think I made a big enough stink to keep everyone fighting for days…” Germany and Italy both nodded in agreement. America had taken Ludwig’s advice and had run with it. No one at the meeting was the wiser with America distracting everyone so expertly. The world was far more concerned with the prospect of America falling into a double-dip recession. If that actually happened, it would screw over everyone else’s finances as well.   
Of course, Alfred had little fear that would actually occur, but it was certainly a topic worthy enough of getting everyone to focus on something other than the secret problems the handful of countries were trying to keep hidden.  
“But…now what do we do, dudes?” America asked. “I thought the plan was to let Russia talk to Gil here, so we could find out what his plans were. If we’re trying to hide his injuries, then…he can’t talk to Russia until his hand heals.”

Canada looked back at his brother.  
“I don’t think Gilbert can leave the hospital anytime soon Alfred. He’s healing on human time. They won’t release him for a few more days at least.”  
“Gah!” Prussia scoffed and jerked his head to the side looking away from everyone, “Diz blowz. I can go. I canz hide my hand or something. I wanz to tell that smug bastard that I hope his house burns to the groundz.” Canada turned back towards his boyfriend then. A very stern look on his face.  
“You can’t do that. If he hits you or shoves you or bumps you, you could rip your stitches. You have stitches Gilbert. I’m sure you’re supposed to be on strict bed rest. I just rushed you to the hospital for emergency surgery. I am not taking any chances on this.”  
“Well.” Britain said from the door as he came back in with a stack of Styrofoam cups in hand. “If Gilbert can’t do it there has only been one other person Russia’s shown any interest in contacting. You’d have to come back to the meetings tomorrow Canada, but I don’t fancy the idea of sending you anywhere near Russia alone. He was obviously using you to deliver a message to Gilbert from what I understand. You could confront him about it and try to question him further on it.” Britain said hesitantly.   
He knew America was about to blow a fuse, but he’d had to say it. If anybody else approached Russia about any of this, it would be suspicious. Canada on the other hand had already dealt with Russia one on one. He would have every reason to confront Russia on the things that had happened earlier in the day and to also have Russia explain himself further about this ‘message’ of his. Britain sat his pitcher of hot water on the table and went about adding a tea bag to all the Styrofoam cups he’d brought in.  
“No. No way in hellz iz that a good idea!” Prussia cried and at the same exact moment, America screamed, “No fuckng way Arty!” Matthew on the other hand looked like he was thinking about it.  
“Donz you dare, Matthew! Donz you even thinkz about it! This is the most unawezome thing I have everz heard!” Prussia shot a glare Britain’s way.

“Right on Gil! This is so stupid! You’re supposed to be the smart one Arthur! Don’t you see what happened after one meeting with that psychopath? Matthew was shoved down the stairs! He cracked his damned face open! It took me and Gil together to take that sucker on! And even then, Germany had to come in and break us up! If he didn’t, Gilbert could’ve-!”   
And quite suddenly, he cut himself off. Matthew or Arthur may have seen a quick and sudden wave of guilt wash over America’s face, but he quickly stuffed it away. He wasn’t going to let that type of thing drag him down now. He hadn’t known Gilbert could get so seriously injured, or he wouldn’t have ever roped him into the fight in the first place.  
“Anyway, there’s no way in hell I’m gunna let my little bro go face that monster again! Who knows what he’ll do next time! So no. No fucking way. If someone’s gotta go, then I’ll go! I’m Canada’s brother. I’d have every right to question Russia too!”  
“Nein, Amerika,” Germany said quickly. “Ve’re tryink to keep you closer to your original personality, remember?”  
“Dude, I’m freaking losing my patience with this entire thing! If I wanna be a big bro, than I’m gunna be a big bro! I can’t just…just…pretend like I don’t care!” 

“We have appearances to keep up Alfred. I’m glad that our family is getting closer together. It’s about time, but the changes are attracting attention to yourself and your brother. We have very few options here. Matthew what do you want to do?”  
“I can do it.” Matthew said, voice unwavering, “I’ll go to the meeting tomorrow and confront him again. It would be the easiest answer. Don’t worry Al. He can’t hurt me permanently. I’ll be ok.”

But America did not look happy. They were lucky there was no table around, because America looked like he was ready to ram his fist through one.   
“No! I don’t fucking care if it’s permanent or not! A broken bone is still a broken bone dudes! So what’s your ingenious plan to keep him safe Arthur, huh? Send him in there all alone? I guess I’m not allowed to even go with him, since I fucking care too much! God! This is a bunch of bull!”

“I just started thinking Alfred. Give me a moment.” Britain said as he started making his tea. Matthew turned to look at his stressed out brother. He reached out gently ruffling up his brother’s amber waves of grain.  
“Alfred. I’m glad you care too much. You’re a great big brother. You really are. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” It was Matthew’s first time relinquishing his claim on the older brother title they had fought over since forever.

That actually caught Alfred off guard. He was so used to saying “big bro” and ‘little bro” their entire lives and having Matthew resist such a thing. It was odd to hear him agree for once.  
“Yeah…” he mumbled, clearly not knowing how to handle his brother being agreeable for once on the subject.  
“So, uh…while Arthur thinks up a plan, should we discuss sleeping arrangements? I mean, the three of us were gunna bunk together in a room right? You me and Gil here. Is it…just gunna be you and me Matt or…are you staying here with Gil?”

“Your not leavingz me here.” Prussia said firmly, “Thiz iz zee worzt place to be.” Prussia elbowed the bed underneath him. Canada sighed. He looked at his brother. He could use that twin power of his to tell that what had happened today would give his brother nightmares that night. Alfred had just lived through one of his nightmares. It was going to affect him later. It was already affecting him.  
“Well.” Canada looked from his boyfriend to his brother, “Uhm. Gilbert you can’t leave yet, but I don’t really want to leave you alone either big brother.” Matthew smiled. Now that he’d said it and Alfred was really acting the part the words seemed more natural. Prussia could see his boyfriend’s conundrum easy enough.  
“Lizen I vill be fine here. Ludwig can ztay.” Prussia volunteered his younger brother’s services without a second thought, “Matthew. Go home and rest up. Take carez of unawezome. He lookz like he’z got more ztrezz than me.” Matthew smiled down at his boyfriend. He leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips.  
“I’ll be back tomorrow. See you then Gilbert.” Then he took America’s hand again and started to walk towards the door to the room. Matthew was ready to fall out himself. He guided America out of the room and Britain followed.   
This left Prussia staring up at his brother. He waited until the North American twins had gone and with an utterly serious voice said.  
“West. Go getz me zome beerz.”

America wanted to object, so, so, soooo badly. Everyone was talking like he was some sort of…of…child or something that needed to be taken care of! It was infuriating! He was America damn it! And he was the toughest, baddest, most awesome country around! Seriously! Everyone knew it too!  
But…as he started to leave with his brother, he immediately felt better knowing he’d be in a place where he could keep an eye on him. And Gilbert would be perfectly safe with Germany. He liked the arrangement, and so…didn’t argue.   
The two twins left, along with Britain. Germany and Italy stayed behind. As soon as Prussia extended a request for beer though, Germany quickly crossed his arms over his chest.  
“Nein. Vhat a stupid question. You’re in zee hospital. Even if I didn’t think der’d be any harm, I doubt the doctors vould allow such a thing.”


	11. Exploiting America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting begins to unravel when Alfred realizes Matthew is gone? Can America get him back or is it already too late?

Chapter 11  
Exploiting America

The night rolled in and eventually it became late. Germany and Italy settled down together on the second bed in the hospital room. Prussia, more than used to their adorableness, didn’t think anything of it as Feliciano curled up tightly with his partner, snuggling his face into his shoulder and neck. Casually, Ludwig laid his arm around him, and even with the stress of the day, both fell asleep quickly, and soundly since they had each other’s company.

The North American twins, however, didn’t have nearly the same peaceful evening. When they first went to sleep, they’d taken separate beds, America insisting that he needed his space and that Canada was getting on his nerves. But the night went almost exactly as Matthew had predicted.   
America had still been having nightmares as it was, and the horror of the past day certainly did nothing to help dispel them. Tortured by visions of long, stretching, never ending, lifeless hallways, where all he did was run and run, screaming for a brother who he was sure no longer existed, or perhaps was lying dying somewhere where he couldn’t find him, woke him up more than once in the deep of the night.  
Finally, after the third nightmare, he clambered out of bed. His pride stripped away by the relentless fear, he stumbled across the room and over to his twin. Without a word, he climbed up and onto the mattress with him. Throwing his arms around his brother, he clutched him tightly to himself, burying his face in his curly hair.   
He didn’t say anything, and Matthew didn’t need to either. But finally, with the scent of his twin in his nose and the warmth of him beside him, he was able to get some sleep without the repeat of the same dream again. 

Finally, the morning came, and it was time for the meeting. Germany and Italy got ready in the hospital room, using the bathroom to change and brush their teeth, and the North American twins got ready in their hotel room. The pairs of countries left their respective rooms together and then all of them headed to the government building. 

Britain was bickering with France on the front steps of the building. There was nothing new there. When the North American twins arrived they walked over to their arguing fathers.   
“Papa. Dad. How are you doing today?” Matthew greeted the two. Canada’s face had healed during the night. As such he looked back too normal. France had been fairly busy glaring at Britain, but when he saw his son he let out a trade mark laugh and went to Matthew throwing his arms around Canada.  
“Mon petit Matthieu! How have you been?” He squeezed him tightly and Britain quickly glowered.  
“Would you drop him, Frog!” Britain walked over to America looking at him. It looked like America had managed to get some rest at least. “America, did you work out anything on your fiscal cliff?” Britain had always conversed with America at these meetings so the two of them together was nothing new.  
“Papa. You can let me go. Really.” Matthew tried to pull away from his father, but when France didn’t let him go. Matthew just sighed, “Papa. We should go up to the meeting, right?”  
“In a minute.” France had been told about all that was going on. He really didn’t want Canada near Russia, but he understood why this was the plan. He just hoped nothing would happen. “Keep your phone on you, Matthieu. Ok?” Matthew nodded.  
“Ok Papa.” France smiled at Canada and pulled him towards the building.  
“Let’s go Matthieu. You can sit with me today.” Canada laughed nervously at that arrangement.  
“Oh joy!” He looked back worriedly at his brother as he was dragged into the building. Britain faced America a very stern look on his face.  
“Let’s go America.”

America winced once again at the mention of the damned fiscal cliff. It was a tender subject, and it was really all they were talking about during the meeting. All the same, he knew it was something he was just going to have to deal with.   
“Thanks for bringing that up again Britain,” America grumbled. “And no, congress hasn’t reached a decision overnight, as you very well know! They’re still fighting over whether or not to raise taxes on wealthy American’s. Until we can agree on that, nothing’s going to move forward. Damn.” Huffing, he followed his family inside.   
“Did you come up with a way to keep Mattie safe during his meeting?” He jabbed accusingly. 

Britain reached out taking a hold of America's arm. The gesture halted his son and made Alfred look at him. It was exactly what the British gent was planning. Ahead of them France pulled Canada into the elevator. The two were alone as the doors closed.   
Britain had planned on separating the North American twins here. It would be better in the eyes of the world if they entered the meeting hall separately like they had done many times before. Britain didn't say anything else. As soon as France and Canada were gone he started off for the elevator motioning America to follow. Alone on the elevator Britain knew he'd have to tell his son the truth about this plan, but now wasn't the time.  
"France is telling Canada what to do at this exact moment, Alfred. I'm going to stick with you today." Britain hadn't come up with any ingenious idea during the night. Canada was just going to have to face Russia. They would have to meet alone. Britain knew Russia would make sure they were alone or he'd just decline Matthew's offer to 'converse'. It was going to happen. Unfortunately, America would just have to deal with it, but knowing America would freak out if he told him there was no additional plan, Britain put on a poker face.  
"You just act normal. We have this under control. Your only part of the plan is to just be your old jackass self. I'll handle the rest."

In the meeting room Canada sat beside France and waited for the meeting to start. He looked around the room and saw Russia staring from across the room. The ice nation was smiling again. That's so unnerving. Matthew thought to himself. He steeled himself for the day ahead. France had reassured him in the elevator that everything would be fine. They couldn't follow Matthew, or Russia would be suspicious, but France promised if anything seemed wrong that they would be at his side in a heartbeat. Canada agreed with the plan. He would ask Russia during the lunch break to speak with him. Then he'd have to see what would happen. The meeting seemed to fly by and when lunch was announced and Russia got up to leave Canada followed. 

He didn't look back at Francis, Alfred, or Arthur as he left. Arthur made sure that Alfred didn't go running after him. The only real plan Arthur had was to wait around in the front lobby and make sure that if Russia did leave the building Canada wasn't forced to go with him.   
With the room clearing out Britain motioned the other two nations towards the elevator. They waited around the entire lunch break, but wherever Russia and Canada had gone they never saw them. It was probably in this time of waiting that America became aware of the fact that his father had no master plan for Matthew's meeting with Russia. They would just have to wait.   
An hour later, it was time for the meeting to restart...still no Canada. Francis had tried calling his son, but Matthew never picked up. Britain was doing his best to keep America calm.  
When they went back upstairs the other nations were walking in, and Russia was already seated. Still no Matthew. It wasn't until Francis called his son again that Matthew's phone vibrated on the table in front of Russia. Russia looked down at the moving electronic, his smile never leaving his face.  
"Oh Comrade Francis. This phone belongs to Comrade Matvey. You can give it back to him when you see him, da? He dropped it when we were talking."  
Francis paled a bit as he was handed the outstretched phone. He was quickly starting to worry. The one thing he'd told his son was to keep the phone on him at all times, but here the thing was. Francis immediately knew they had no real way of finding Matthew without it.

"Wh-where did you talk to him?" Francis asked quickly.  
"Oh. We walked all over building, da. I don't really remember." Russia smiled, "Sorry. I'm sure he will be back soon, da. Maybe comrade Matvey got lost. No?" Russia looked over at America with his purple, watchful eyes. He was waiting to see what America would do with the meeting about to start. Britain was pulling on Alfred trying to get him to sit at their table. He quietly whispered to his son that he'd think of something. Not to worry. He would make a plan.

America’s heart was already racing. His feet were like ice. His chest was tight, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His hands trembled as he broke out into a cold sweat. For a long, torturous moment, he simply couldn’t move.   
Arthur was supposed to come up with a plan to keep Matthew safe. Alfred had never wanted him going to see Russia alone. He’d been dead set against it from the very start. And now here they were; his nightmares and fears once again becoming a stark reality. It seemed like everything he did was a waste. Nothing he said, nothing he ever did seemed to make a damned difference. It didn’t matter how close he stuck to Matthew…he still couldn’t protect him.  
And now, no one knew where Matthew was. Has Russia kidnapped him already? Did he…shove him into a box or a bag and ship him off to Russia? Has he hurt him? What if he seriously hurt him, and left him lying somewhere…bleeding?   
Alfred’s fingers curled into fists as his trembling increased.   
I won’t fail! I can’t fail him! I promised myself when I had died that I’d protect Matthew! I promised Matthew to his face, repeatedly that I’d keep him safe!   
“Alfred,” came Britain’s voice. The older country reached out, putting a hand on Alfred’s arm in an attempt to calm him down. He was clearly about to freak out, and Britain wanted to do all he could to keep their cover in the crowded meeting hall. “Alfred, the meeting is about to start,” he whispered. “Everyone’s looking…just…calm down and take a seat.”  
America grit his teeth together, a snarl coming over his lips. And then, quite suddenly, he lashed out. He shoved Britain violently aside and away from himself, causing the smaller country to stumble backward and into his chair, which hit him just beneath his knees. It caused him to fall, knocking not only his chair over, but France’s as well as he collapsed to the floor. Several of the other countries gasped at the sudden violence, erupting between two countries that were usually close and friendly. America stood over him, his face red with betrayal and anger, his fists still trembling.  
“I’m not going to just sit in my fucking seat and do nothing!” He screamed. “And I will not calm down! You were supposed to keep this from happening! You lied to me! You fucking liar!” The other countries gaped. Immediately they started whispering amongst each other.  
“What on earth is that about?”  
“America and England are usually so close.”  
“A family dispute?”  
“What do you think he means by ‘keep this from happening?’ Is he talking about the fiscal cliff?”  
“What did Britain lie about?”  
“I dunno…”  
But Alfred could have cared less about the buzz he’d just created. He was far too terrified to care about anyone other than his brother. And so, after screaming at his fallen father, he turned and ran for the meeting room’s door. The other countries gaped.  
“Where’s he going?”  
“This meeting is about his country’s finances! He can’t just leave!” But he wasn’t about to stop. With a slam, he pushed open both swinging doors. And in another heartbeat he was gone, racing down the buildings hallways all over again, just as he’d done the day before, and just as he’d done all night long in his nightmares.   
The meeting room was in a frenzy. And as everyone chattered amongst themselves, a few countries banded together to discuss matters. China and North Korea casually walked over to Russia. Keeping their voices low, but there really was no need since the room was now very loud with speculation, North Korea leaned in to the largest country in the world.  
“You were right. America’s losing it. But why? Why’s he suddenly so afraid for his twin’s safety? He never cared before. Did something happen that we don’t know about?”  
“Could Canada be sick?” China suggested. “Perhaps North American countries are trying to hide something?”  
“Either way…it’s looking like we might be able to easily exploit America at this point, our most powerful enemy. Great job Russia, it’s just as you said.”

Germany kept a firm grip on Italy’s shoulder as the meeting went to hell. As observant as always, he carefully watched the other countries react to America’s outburst. France was now helping England to his feet, and…the three countries they were really worried about had assembled. He couldn’t hear what they were saying from his position, but it hardly mattered. He could tell by their expressions that they were already plotting how to use such an obvious weakness to their advantage.  
Verdammt!(Damn) He thought woefully. America was too much of a firecracker to be able to carry out the advice Germany gave him the day before. I should have known as much. Now we’re in serious trouble. Germany wanted to go and discuss things with France and England, but knew he couldn’t get involved. He couldn’t run after America either. Germany knew full well that if this entire thing went to hell, which it was appearing to do rather quickly, then he didn’t want to be associated with the American countries. His priority was to keep himself, Italy and Prussia safe. And the best way to do that was remain calm, and not to be seen interacting with any of the involved countries.   
Things are unravelink quickly...the best I can do is keep Gilbert unt Feliciano safe...  
Even so...he couldn’t help but to feel for Alfred. Ludwig wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t have reacted the same exact way if it had been his brother instead. And…despite any efforts to hide it…Germany had seen how the super power was starting to unravel at the seams. He was suffering. And Germany always recognized when someone was suffering, even when other’s didn’t. He felt the urge to help…but…  
Ludwig glanced down at Feliciano who was looking out across the chaotic room. He could see the worry on his sweet face. Germany only gripped the smaller countries shoulder more tightly.   
He wouldn’t risk Italy for anything. And so…friend or not…America was on his own.

Alfred raced down the empty halls. His dress shoes slapped against the cold tile beneath him as he went. The florescent lights moved over and above him, and down his back as he ran. Completely panic-stricken, he wheezed from the effort. His chest was so tight, his heart so heavy with dread that it was a wonder he was able to run at all.   
The nightmare continued, as it always had, only this time it was real. Matthew was gone. He had no idea where he was. He probably wasn’t even in the building anymore.  
Alfred imagined horrible things. Maybe his little brother was tied and gagged and in the back of some truck. Maybe he’d been beaten to keep him from resisting. Perhaps he’d been drugged, or stuffed into some sack, his wrists and ankles duct taped together.   
What would Russia do with him?  
Alfred let out a desperate cry of distress down the empty hall. There was no one around to hear him, or help him look for his little brother. It was as lifeless as it always was. The stone walls were as cold as ice, and as always…all the hallways were empty.   
Alfred felt like he’d crack. He felt like he could just lose it completely, right there and then. He knew that if he couldn’t find his brother…he’d just go crazy.  
“I…I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! Please! Please forgive me little brother? I thought I could protect you…keep you safe but I…I couldn’t! And I…I didn’t know what was happening until you were gone! And once you were gone, I…I couldn’t find you! I searched everywhere! I’m so sorry! Please believe me? I tried everything but I…I was too late!”  
Future America’s words echoed in his head like a ghost. He remembered his bloodied-tear stricken face. He remembered that look of broken grief in his one good eye. He remembered how he had clutched Matthew to himself in desperation.   
At the time, Alfred hadn’t seen how he could change so drastically. He hadn’t believed that he could ever become that America from the future. But now…racing down the lifeless halls, the doorways never ending, the search never over…he could see it. He could see very easily how he could become like that soldier.   
“Oh my God…” he wheezed, his breath wispy and void of any strength he once had. “Please…please no! Please God! Don’t take my brother from me! Matthew!”   
His vision blurred as he turned the next corner, running blindly and without destination. Something warm rolled out from behind his pounding eyes and down his pale cheeks. He slapped at the tears on his face mercilessly, trying to get them out of his way so he could see.  
“Matthew!” He called again. “Please! Please answer me! Please be here!” His heart galloped within his chest, powerfully. It sent waves of fire through his veins. He was convinced that if he didn’t find his brother soon, his heart would simply explode from the pain and the power behind his terror.  
“Matthew!” He screamed again. “Matthew!” 

~~

“Well damn it all.” Britain muttered while his older brother helped him up off of the floor. Now things were out in the open. America looked like a deranged loon, and Britain knew the terrible trio was aware that Alfred was being seriously overprotective of his little brother. He shot a look over to the three countries he was most worried about and then quickly looked away.  
Damn. They were all together and obviously conversing. Britain said a silent prayer; hopefully they had a year left until the three nations across the room tried anything like what future America had warned them about. He straightened up his jacket and stared off at the door where Alfred had vanished. Obviously America’s tirade had helped nothing, but it wasn’t like Arthur could blame Alfred for it.   
He lowered his head in shame. This had been one of the worst laid plans ever. He said a second prayer for his quieter son. Please let Matthew be safe. If he’s gone… But Britain couldn’t even think through that possibility. If Matthew was gone there’d be a war. Even if it was Alfred fighting all by himself.


	12. I’m Me! Deal With It!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew's missing. What happened? Can Alfred find him in time?

Chapter 12  
I’m Me! Deal With It!

At the beginning of the lunch break Matthew and Russia had walked the empty halls of the building. Matthew hadn’t really wanted to be alone walking so deep in the maze of halls, but Russia steered them where he wanted them to go regardless of his input. Eventually they were in an empty conference room two floors down. A projector screen at the front of the room, tables and chairs were plentiful, a single door in and out, and up high on the wall were ventilation windows that were about two feet tall by three feet wide. Russia had directed Matthew into the room and Matthew kept his distance as the giant nation started to talk.  
“Comrade Matvey. I am glad your face healed up. I am sorry for yesterday.”   
Canada nodded accepting the apology. He didn’t really believe Russia, but he needed to move this conversation along, “I wanted to talk to you Russia. You wanted to tell Prussia something. What did you want to tell him?”   
Russia’s smile grew even larger at the mention of Prussia, “Ah! Da! Comrade Prussia!” Russia clapped his hands together in excitement, “I was surprised to see you with him. The way you were with each other. You didn’t look like friends.” Russia’s purple eyes narrowed as he stared at Matthew and waited for a response to his prodding. Matthew stood his ground.  
“So? That has nothing to do with you. What did you want to tell Prussia, eh?”  
“I used to be friends with him, da. I just wanted to ask him a few things. I am surprised. I didn’t think your brother would approve of someone like him.” Russia walked towards Matthew and reached out wrapping his huge arms around the smaller nation. At first Matthew wanted to panic, but after a firm hug that once again made Matthew’s feet leave the floor Russia put him down with a smile. Then Russia looked towards the door leading out into the hallway.  
“Tell Gilbert that I find the situation very interesting. Never mind, I will tell him the rest myself.”  
The unwavering smile only grew as Russia turned towards the door and started to walk away, “I have to go I believe this meeting is going to be interesting, and I do not want to miss it.” With a wave Russia walked out of the room shutting the door behind him. Matthew had felt the tension leave along with the other nation. He let his shoulders fall as he leaned against the table for support. That had been short and uneventful, yet it had been unnerving too. Still it was a little disheartening that the meeting had been utterly useless. At least now he could go find Alfred.  
That thought made Matthew smile. His twin was probably pacing wherever he was. He didn’t want his brother to panic, so he needed to get moving. He stood back up and straightened out his coat. Composing himself from the stress Matthew hurried over to the door and went to push the door open.   
He was utterly shocked when it didn’t budge.  
“What?” He tried the doorknob again. When that didn’t work he shook the door, but he quickly found that the door was locked or jammed or just not opening! He put his weight against the door, but it still wouldn’t budge an inch. He felt a moment of panic when he realized he was locked in, but then he quickly reached into his pocket for his phone. All he needed to do was call one of his father’s or his brother. Then that panic doubled when he realized his jacket pocket was empty.  
“Eh!?” Matthew’s eyes widened, and he scrambled checking all of his pockets. His phone was gone. The gears in Matthew’s head instantly started to turn. There was only one explanation. That moment when Russia had hugged him. Russia must have taken it, but why? Canada’s mind raced as he beat on the door, but nobody was around to hear him. The idea came to knock it down, but the buildings construction was sturdy. The door was metal, and it wasn’t budging after a few good hits.  
Matthew looked around the room. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he still had time until lunch was over. He needed to think of something. If he didn’t get back by the start of the meeting his brother would freak out, and Matthew knew it. Panic raced through Canada. What was Russia trying to do? Obviously if Russia wanted to keep him here, then he needed to get out and the sooner the better. After beating on the door some more, which proved utterly useless, Matthew turned to examine his surroundings. He wasn’t going to be busting down a wall. The windows that lead to the outside world were too high up for a safe escape. Matthew turned to examine the ceiling then. The small ventilation windows at the very top of the room were cracked open. He studied the small windows along the top of the wall. They were ajar, but could he fit through one of those? Well he had no other options. The door wasn’t budging unless he wanted to beat his hands bloody.   
He would have to try something.   
Matthew ran to one of the conference room tables and tried to pull it towards the wall below the ventilation windows.   
“Maple!” He quietly yelled to the empty room when he discovered the table was bolted down! Having no other options, he pulled chairs over towards the wall. He thanked his lucky stars that the chars weren’t swivel. They were metal framed, heavy, and they had a square frame. It would be complicated but Matthew started to stack chairs to give him height to reach the small window which was at least six feet above his head. He lined up a row of chairs on the floor. He started to make a pyramid of chairs and made it as sturdy as he could. A number of rows of chairs up Matthew felt his eye twitch as he stared at his way out. He knew this wasn’t the best idea, but he was desperate.  
“Oh maple. Please don’t let me break my neck.” He said the prayer and carefully started to climb his chair death trap. It seemed luck was on his side when he managed to reach the top. Once he was able he attempted to open the small window further, but he discovered that it probably hadn’t been opened from its current position in years.  
“Maple. Just when I need some WD-40.” Matthew grumbled at the thought of the American based product. Matthew spent the next ten minutes trying to keep his balance and work on the window at the same time. He managed to pry the window open, and it opened out into the hallway. Feeling the chairs shaking beneath him Matthew carefully started to crawl through the now open window. He reached his arms through the frame first. The seal was as thick as the wall, and Matthew was glad he hadn’t attempted busting out through the door or the wall. He wasn’t super strong like his twin. It would have been a waste of time.   
Using the chairs to carefully balance, he managed to get his shoulders through the tiny escape route. With his shoulders through, Matthew examined the empty hallway outside. No one was around to help or move the chair that Russia had pried underneath the doorknob keeping him trapped inside. Of course. Matthew glared at the chair with a bit of rage. What an ass. He thought to himself.   
Matthew continued trying to wiggle his way to freedom, but it was a tight fit. In hindsight he realized he should have taken off his coat before starting this endeavor. When the chair pyramid shook beneath his feet Matthew’s eyes widened. Eh! The pyramid of chairs crashed to the floor in the room behind him. Matthew’s feet flailed around in the air as he tried to find some traction so he could move. With nothing supporting him he went crashing against the bottom seal of the window. The hard metal applying a good amount of pressure on his midsection as he tried to continue to shimmy to freedom, but it was impossible with his feet flying free in the air.  
“Maple!” Matthew cried out. Without the chairs to put his weight on Matthew soon discovered he was in trouble. He squirmed and twisted, but there wasn’t much leeway to begin with. He couldn’t position himself, and he suddenly realized he couldn’t move. He put his hands on the wall below him and shoved, but he was stuck. All the unplanned movement had caused his coat to bundle up around his waist. It didn’t help him with the already ridiculous tight squeeze. Matthew put his hands against the windows next to him and pushed again. He heard the glass crack after only a moment, and he soon realized he was really, really, stuck. He found himself panicking, struggling, but eventually giving up. He would have to wait until someone came by who could help.  
It was some time later when he heard the elevator door open at the end of the hall. He couldn’t see who had gotten off, but he heard frantic running. Matthew knew who it was when he heard his brother scream out his name. He could tell his brother was frenzied, but by this time Matthew had broken down. He was laughing at his current situation. It was unbelievable really. As soon as Matthew heard his frightened brother he quickly called down the hallway.  
“A-Al! A-Alfred!” He tried to keep his voice from cracking from his own laughter, “Alfred! I’m fine! I’m stuck! I’m not hurt! Russia didn’t do anything!” He laughed out loud into the hallway, “Get me down! God! My stomach is killing me!”   
That was the honest truth. Having all of his body weight pressed against the seal of the window was very uncomfortable, but it was nothing for his brother to be so frantically worried about. When he saw Alfred approaching he waved at his brother.  
“He locked me in this room! Can you believe that? I was trying to get out, but I got stuck. Are you ok? I was so worried something would happen. Get me down!”

Seemingly caught in a whirlwind of despair and hopelessness, America had started his searches of the other floors of the building completely blind. In fact, he was so upset, that he almost ran right by the very person he was searching for. He heard the giggling and laughing of his twin on some level, but it was such a happy noise that it felt as if it simply didn’t belong in the darkness that had enveloped him.  
Blinking in confusion, his frantic racing slowed down to a jog. Then, when he lifted his bleary gaze, he spotted his lost twin, dangling from a tiny window above him near the ceiling. His jog slowed to a trot. Then finally, he came to a stop.  
Wheezing horrifically, sweat having drenched his face and his clothes long ago, he didn’t even have the air within him to speak. He could only gape. It took him several long seconds to even realize that what he was seeing was real, and not some hopeful figment of his imagination.   
“M…Matthew?” He questioned. Putting his hands out, he hunched forward, resting them on his knees. There, he wheezed horrifically, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run so long or so hard. And as he stood there, trying to gather himself, he lifted one of his hands to wipe at his tear drenched cheeks. He’d been so hysterical that he didn’t even realize how much water he’d managed to produce.  
“Son of a bitch!” He suddenly screamed for no apparent reason. Perhaps it was just to release some of the horrific tension he’d been dealing with. Gasping for air, he then tried to right himself once more. Standing upright, he then looked up at his brother a second time.  
“Holy shit this is real!” He exclaimed. And for a second or two he looked torn. He seemed like all he wanted to do in the whole wide world was grab his brother and hold him to himself and cry all over him like the blubbering train-wreck that future America was. But…obviously, he couldn’t do that with Canada stuck way up high in a tiny window.  
“Wh…what…h…how did you? What happened?” He ran a hand through his sweaty bangs, still appearing as if he were coming out of a hellish nightmare. “You’re alive?”  
“Oh mon dieu! Yes! Alfred I’m alive!” Matthew had to laugh once more as his own situation left him high on adrenaline, “Now come on and get me out of here!”   
Alfred stared a second longer, but in seeing Matthew alive and well, and not missing in the slightest, and in seeing him smile, and then laugh, and seeing his lavender eyes squint shut in delight, called fourth all of his childhood connections with his twin. The two were very good at laughing together, and playing together, and joking together. In general, they were very good at being happy as twins. And when Matthew laughed, Alfred always did too, and vice versa. It was contagious. And besides, being happy and laughing was really who Alfred was. He’d much rather jump at the chance to smile again and have a good time than to dwell on something that, thankfully, hadn’t ever really happened.   
“Oh! Oh thank God!” He said. And as soon as the words left his mouth, his face cracked in the way it always had when there was an opportunity to make light of something. “You…you just look ridiculous! How did you get up there?” And then there it was, finally, the infectious laugh he was waiting for. He caught it rather quickly from Matthew, maybe because he wanted to, or maybe because he had to in order to relieve himself from the fear he’d just felt. But whatever the reason, it felt so very good to laugh, especially with his brother.  
“You idiot! Did you think you could fit through there? I swear Matt! You’re helpless without me! Didn’t you bring any syrup with you? We could just lather you up and pop you right out!”

“Syrup? Are you insane, Alfred? Maybe some of that heart clogging lard your burgers are dripping with could fix this!” He reached out his hand. He was stretching as much as he could. He waited for Alfred to reach up. He’d touched Alfred’s fingertips for just a moment, but they couldn’t grab a hold of each other. Matthew pointed to the door.  
“Russia trapped me in here! He stole my phone! Do you believe that? I made this pyramid out of the chairs inside this stupid room, but it fell. I got stuck!” He laughed and then cringed a bit, “Maple! I’ve been hanging up here forever! I can’t get down. Don’t make me laugh!” Matthew kept laughing anyway though. The situation was just so funny.  
“My stomach is killing me! Really, Al! Get me down! Move that stupid chair, get in here, and get me down! I broke their window too. We have to go tell Russia he has to pay for that!"

Alfred smiled, his blue eyes squinting shut with joy. It was just so wonderful! He loved his brother so much it almost hurt.   
“Nah!” He suddenly said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I think I’ll just leave you there until you tell me what happened to my Gameboy Color that I know you stole but won’t admit to!”  
“Ah! Alfred!” Canada cried objectively. And normally, Alfred would have played a tease like that up a hell of a lot longer, but he just couldn’t today. He wanted to get his brother down and really see him up close.   
“Just kidding!” Grinning, he turned to face him, then started taking a few steps back. “Don’t move little bro,” he instructed. Matthew’s eyes widened when he realized just what it was Alfred was planning on doing to get him down. Quickly, he held out his arms and waved them at him frantically.  
“Al! Al, no! No! Don’t just jump up here! Go unlock the door like a normal person!” Alfred finished backing up, then smiled brightly at his brother.  
“But you and I both know…I’m not a normal person!” With an ecstatic laugh, Alfred launched himself forward. Matthew screamed as Alfred flung himself through the air and up the wall. Then stretching out his hands, he grabbed onto Matthew’s outstretched palms. Then, planting both feet against the wall, Alfred gave one mighty pull.  
With another scream, Matthew popped out of his prison, his body flinging through the air. Alfred of course, was now falling also, but he certainly didn’t mind, judging from his hysterical laughter as they fell. Grabbing onto his twin, both collided to the tiled floor then skidded to a stop.   
They lay still for just a moment, seeing if they were hurt, but luckily they weren’t. America immediately started laughing again as Canada squirmed from underneath him.  
“You’re crazy! You almost yanked my arms out of their sockets!”  
“HAHAHA! Ha! This is the best fun we’ve had the past few weeks! Live a little!”  
“If I live like you I’ll die!” America only laughed harder. Then, seemingly still not having had enough, he rolled over and grabbed at his brother, initiating a wrestling match right there in the middle of the government buildings hallway. Grabbing his coat, he pulled it over his head to blind him, then proceeded to punch him in a brotherly way.   
Perhaps it was Alfred’s way of relieving stress, or letting Matthew know that he loved him, but whatever the reason, it was clear he wasn’t ready to head back to the meeting yet. Not without some quality time with his bro.  
“Come on! Fight back you wuss!” 

Matthew laughed out as his brother pulled his jacket up and over his head.  
“A-Al!” He smiled brightly in his shadowed prison. He hadn’t been so happy in a long time. No matter the terror and trauma they had suffered over the last few weeks. The two twins had managed to get something back that Matthew had thought was gone a long time ago. He’d found his brother again. The brother that noticed him and stood with him. He had never been scared during the whole fiasco today. Not once. Well. He’d been scared about Russia being back in the meeting room with everyone he held dear, but he had not worried for himself. He knew if something had happened that his brother would have found him. Even while being stuck in the window. He knew eventually Alfred would be the one to come rescue him, and until recently Matthew had not always believed his brother could be so intuitive to his needs.   
A few weeks ago if this had happened. He would have believed he was on his own until a security guard or some building employee found him. His brother would have probably left the world meeting without even noticing Canada was missing, but things had changed. Matthew was glad to have his twin back. To show his happiness he kicked out at his brother playfully.  
“Get off, you oaf!” Matthew reached out blindly putting his hand on his brother’s face and trying to push him away. He managed to smush his twin’s nose and glasses up against his face. He smirked when his brother called him a wuss.  
“Don’t be ridiculous, Al. Give me a hockey stick, and I’ll mop the floor with you!” Matthew reached up groping around the front of his brother’s shirt still unable to see because of his jacket. Canada grabbed the front of his twin’s shirt and playfully wrestled America off.   
Once he’d gotten free of his brother. It gave him a long enough time period to pull his coat off and chunk it onto the floor off to the side. A moment later he was lunging at his brother. Throwing his arms tightly around Alfred’s chest he went to wrestle him to the floor and try to pin him. He’d never been as good at wrestling like his brother, but they’d done this many times in their childhood, and he remembered Alfred usually won. That didn't matter though. He held onto his brother wrestling his way onto his back and trying to pin him down to the ground.  
“I got you now! You should know better than to mess with me, Al!” A smile filled his face, “If you make me angry, you’ll never see that game boy color again!” He burst out into laughter as he squeezed his twin tightly, "I can't believe you still remember that!"

“Dude! Of course I remember! I was in the middle of my Pokemon Red game!” With Matthew suddenly on his back, Alfred found himself face down against the floor, and that would not do. He was a winner! But he and Matthew had wrestled so many times as children that he immediately knew which move to pull off to make everything just so much more fun than it already was.  
“Tell ya what Matt! I won’t take you down…I’ll take you up!” With a mighty shove, he pushed himself up and off of the floor and onto his feet. With Canada still on his back, the northern twin found himself stuck on top of his twin’s shoulders piggyback style.  
“Hahaha!” America laughed joyously as he reached back; hooking his arms around his brother’s legs to make sure he didn’t fall. “Remember our cowboy game we used to play, back when we were new countries, and cowboys were actually a common occurrence in America?” Canada nodded in fond recollection. Alfred had simply loved cowboys when he was younger.   
“Well hold onto yer hat little bro! And duck if ya see any signs hanging down from the ceiling!” And then, of course, he began to run. Racing down the hallways, he started to head back toward the meeting room, but luckily for the brothers, they had two entire floors to climb up and then an entire building to cross before they could get there. As such, they had several minutes to just laugh and laugh as the wind rushed by.   
Running back up the stairs and down the halls in the opposite direction proved to be one of the most thrilling things Alfred could remember doing in a long, long time. It was the total opposite of the run he’d had down. Instead of a nightmare, everything now, suddenly, was a dream come true.   
There was something so amazing and perfect about hearing his brother laugh up above his shoulders. And there was something so fulfilling about swerving out of the way of the exit sign up ahead that would have clocked Canada in the face had he not avoided it at the last moment. With adrenaline pumping for an entirely different reason from before, Alfred found himself feeling as if he were right where he belonged.   
This was who he was.   
Sure, he was a bit egotistical. Sure, maybe he was proud and arrogant too. Perhaps he thought his country was the best in all the world (it was, he was sure!) But Alfred knew that the greatest thing about America was the spirit. The other countries could have said whatever they wanted, they could have made fun of him from time to time if they so desired, but Alfred didn’t care. This was what life should be about. Having fun, and smiling and laughing with his brother. He felt that more often than not, the other countries completely and utterly underestimated the power of a good time.   
Alfred didn’t. He didn’t need more proof than what he’d just gone through. Only moments ago he’d wanted to wither away and die of heartache. And now…with just a laugh, just a smile, just a quick wrestling match, he was up and on his feet and running again. He was in heaven.   
It wasn’t just about parties and goofing off; it was about living life to its fullest. Everyday.  
The twins ran until they got to the hall that lead to the meeting room. There, Alfred finally slowed down and then stopped. Breathing heavily all over again, he unhooked his arms to let Matthew down from his back. The northern twin clambered off of him rather awkwardly, once accidentally hitting him in the face.   
“Ow, man! Watch it!”  
“Oh! Sorry Alfred!” But then he was on the floor on his feet and the two stood facing the closed doors.   
Standing there as he was, gazing up at the huge double wooden doors, his brother at his side, Alfred knew exactly what he needed to do.   
He wasn’t like Germany. He couldn’t bottle himself up inside. He couldn’t treat himself like some prisoner. Alfred had always been free, and felt that it was incredibly, unbelievably important to always be himself.   
His face hardened as he made a very quick decision.  
“I’m not hiding anymore,” he said firmly. “You’re my bro, and it’s completely stupid that people keep telling me to forget about that.” He turned, fixating his bright blue eyes on his twin. “You know what, fuck that! We’re not just bro’s, we’re twins! And I’m proud of that!” Reaching out, he clapped a strong hand on Canada’s back.   
“I’m gunna head in there, and fix all of this. I’m doing things my way!”

After a nod from his brother, America turned to the doors in front of him. Then, with no hesitation and a mighty kick, he crashed through the doors of the meeting hall. The noise was horrific, and it stopped everyone in their tracks. Alfred and Matthew had been gone for some time, so the other countries had tried to start the meeting without them, but now, it came to an abrupt halt all over again as everyone stared at the rude entrance.   
“Ok dudes! Me and my bro are back now! It’s ok!” He said as he and Matthew stepped inside. “I wanted to make a quick announcement about some of the funny business that’s been going on around here the past few days, k? So if I could have your attention please! Yes. Look this way! Over here by the door, yes, very good!”   
Lifting his hands, America waved the other countries over so that they would turn and give him their attention. Once America was sure he had everyone’s eyes on him and their undivided interest, he quickly threw an arm around Canada.  
“This is my little bro. I know a lot of you haven’t paid a lot of attention to him, and neither have I until recently. All the same, it’s very important that everyone here understand that this is my bro! Ok? This guy, right here. Very important to me. We can all agree on this, right?” A few of the smaller, more frightened countries nodded. But the rest of them were just starting to look confused. What was America doing?  
Releasing Canada from his grip, Alfred then started to walk up the table and toward the head of the room.  
“Some of you dudes may have noticed I’ve been acting a little stressed out the past few days,” Alfred said. “And I have a very good reason for that. One of you in this room has been messing with my little bro.” He continued to walk down the side of the very long table, and as he did, Russia’s chair came nearer to him. He was just up ahead, a few feet away.   
“Please allow me to quickly demonstrate what happens when you hurt my little brother,” And quite suddenly, and with no warning whatsoever, America curled his hands and just slammed his right fist into the side of Russia’s face. Hard. As hard as he could muster.   
Even though the other nation was larger, he started to topple out of his chair, but America reached out, grabbing him by his silver hair, effectively stopping him. But it certainly wasn’t to be nice. He then didn’t hesitate to grip the back of Russia’s head and then immediately slam it down and forward into the oak meeting hall’s table as viciously as he possibly could. There was a huge resounding CRACK as the large nations skull came slamming down.   
But even as Russia’s face was still down in the wood, America released him and continued his stroll up the table and toward the head of the room as if he hadn’t done anything at all. Casually, he took his place at the head of the table, where Germany had been standing, trying to keep order.   
Germany quickly stepped aside, wanting nothing to do with the insanity that America had just created.   
Looking out across the table at the other nations, several of them now murmuring amongst themselves from the sudden violence, he cleared his throat. Leaning in and placing both hands firmly on the table top, he faced them.  
“So! Dudes! Here’s the deal: Russia over there, thought it was a good idea, to shove my little brother down the stairs yesterday.” More murmuring arose. A few nations gasped in shock.  
“Yeah! Ya heard me! Shoved Canada down the stairs!” Alfred confirmed. “A nice, quiet country like Canada, who never did anyone any wrong. Cracked his pancake loving face open on the cement. That’s why me and Russia got into it yesterday. But hey! Bygones right? Today’s a new fucking day, isn’t it? Well fuck no! Not for Russia!”  
Alfred slapped his hand down on the table top, anger finally starting to creep into his voice and body movements even though his entrance had been so cool.   
“I ran out of here earlier because I got wind that my little bro was missing. Yeah, missing. From a world meeting. A place that’s suppose to be safe for nations to gather, yeah? Well apparently Russia thought it was a good idea to lock my brother in a room. Who the hell knows why, I don’t. But keeping a country from these meetings by force is totally wrong dudes! That, and after yesterday, I thought maybe he’d shoved him down the stairs again! So!”  
He then stood upright once more and clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention again since their attention had diverted to Matthew, then to Russia.  
“So! Dudes! The message you should get from this is that you do not mess with my family! You got me? We’re at a fucking meeting here! You got a problem, we talk it out, or yell it out or whatever. But you don’t ever lay a hand on my bro! Unless you want your face pounded in like Russia here. K? We got a deal? Do not piss me off.”  
Looking over the other countries, America could see that they got his message loud and clear. And although he wasn’t very good at ‘reading the atmosphere’ as Matthew always called it, he was pretty sure that a lot of the countries agreed with him. They understood the concept of having a family member hurt, or missing and what kind of panic that could cause. And since Russia wasn’t really friends with anyone…no one was really all that upset that America had wailed on him to make a point.   
Russia was the only country ballsy enough to do anything like that to America anyway. None of the others ever dreamed of pulling such a stunt. And so…with the truth out in the open, many opinions now had the option to form and be made.   
America didn’t care what they would ultimately decide, and he didn’t care what they thought of him. All he cared about was making sure everyone understood that he loved his brother, and that he would fight for his brother if he felt threatened. And knowing the type of weight he threw around, being a super power, Alfred knew that at least most of the countries would heed his warning.   
Matthew would be safe. That was what mattered.  
Turning from the crowd, Alfred then headed to his empty seat next to Britain. Taking it and plopping down on its cushion, he then turned to the older country, still a bit of the sting and bitterness from Britain’s earlier lies resting in his blue eyes.  
“That’s how I make sure Matthew’s safe.”

Britain met Alfred’s eyes for only a moment. Surrendering to the comment as well as the guilt he was feeling, he turned away. Matthew’s safe. That’s what matters. Britain told himself. He refused to face his son again, but he let his green eyes examine the room. The room had descended into speculation, murmuring, and very watchful eyes. The eyes of various nations were darting between Russia, Canada, and America. Canada was still standing in the center of the room. Britain would have expected the shy nation to look a bit unnerved, but Canada stood tall by himself.   
Alfred’s story had caused a lot of countries in the room to give the quiet nation a pitying look. It was true that Canada was soft spoken and kind. No one wanted to think about his ‘pancake loving face’ cracked against concrete.   
The nations who knew Russia seemed to except what America had said. Many had been under Russia’s authority before, and many nations were used to his games. They could easily see Russia pulling such stunts to get at America. Some of the nations who weren’t as familiar with the ice nation whispered quietly wondering if America’s story was true or some blown out of proportion tale. No one really made a move to do anything as speculation circled the room.  
Canada stood in the center of the room for a moment after his brother sat down. He definitely wasn’t invisible anymore. Canada took in a deep breath; he knew there was something else he needed to do. He walked over to Russia.   
The ex-communist had stood for a moment, straightened his coat and chair, and sat back at his table. The nations sitting beside him seemed a bit unnerved when they looked over, and Russia still had that smile on his face. Russia’s purple eyes were squinted shut with happiness even as blood ran down from his hairline. Not a lot of blood, but enough to draw attention. Canada stood in front of Russia. He stared at the much larger country and didn’t waiver.  
“You took my phone from me. I guess so you could make Alfred freak out in front of everybody. I don’t appreciate being used. Where is my phone?”  
“I don’t have it Comrade Matvey.” Russia’s smile never faltered in the slightest. Matthew had to wonder briefly if the head slam had dazed Russia. Did the ice nation have a concussion? It wasn’t normal to just keep smiling after someone slammed your face into a table. The longer Canada stood in front of the ice nation the more he felt himself losing his nerve, but he didn’t let it show. Some of the nation’s began conversing more as Canada faced Russia. Luckily Canada was soon saved. France stood up from his chair waiving the device in the air.  
“Mattieu. I have your phone. He gave it to me earlier.” Matthew looked over at his papa and nodded. Then he walked to his chair beside France and took his seat. Another round of whispers filled the room when many of the onlookers remembered when Russia had given the phone to France.  
“So he really did do it.” One would whisper.  
“Can you believe it?”  
“It is Russia.”  
“So America’s been worried about his brother. I can understand that.” It seemed as if all was slowly returning to normalcy as the room started to settle down. Britain stood up from his chair and still not looking at either of his son’s walked out of the conference room. It drew the attention of most everybody in the room. Canada and France were looking somewhat sympathetic for the older nation, but they didn’t go after him. He would be fine until the evening when the meeting was over.   
Canada felt bad for his father, and he was sure Britain didn’t need added guilt from America to feel poorly about the botched ‘plan’ for the day. Everything had worked out. Canada would have to find his father after the meeting and talk to him, but for now Germany was trying to bring order back to the chaos.

Germany couldn’t help but to feel anxious. Everything that had just taken place seemed wrought with underlying danger. Although it was good that America wanted to come out and be more vocal about his family, and although his stunt did seem to gain him the approval of a lot of the other countries…he couldn’t help but to feel like humiliating Russia, publicly, in front of the entire world, the way America did, was a terrible idea.   
Russia was the type of country to hold grudges. And Germany suspected the reason Russia had been exploiting America’s new found feelings of family responsibility in the first place was because he still had a grudge left over from the cold war. And now, America had just given him a fresh, new, much more personal reason to be pissed.   
Germany knew America wasn’t afraid of Russia. But perhaps he should have been. Although the giant country was quiet most of the time, when he did decide on a course of action, there was little that could stop him.  
He was dangerous.   
Germany knew as much.  
And Ludwig was worried.  
Knowing however, that there was nothing to be done at this exact moment in time, other than try to regain order, he re-took his place at the head of the room. Clearing his throat, he called out over the other countries to try and get things settled.  
“Allright, allright, ve’ve had an exciting meetink. Amerika is as violent as alvays, ja? Let’s just…move on to da reason ve’re all actually here.” And of course, that reason was still, and was most certainly almost always to be, finances. It was a good eighty-percent of what their meetings were usually about. And if it wasn’t directly about finances, then it was indirectly about finances: such as other countries needing to share resources…which was basically another form of finances anyway.  
“Let’s move on to zee subject of Greece’s finances,” Germany said. Everyone in the room groaned. That particular subject was discussed every single time they gathered because it was such a train-wreck, and nothing constructive was ever done about it.   
That was why Germany had picked it. It was something nice, and normal that all the countries could focus on, other than the storm America had just unleashed. No one else seemed all that upset about it…but…Ludwig couldn’t ignore the growing feeling of dread he had in his gut. He just…felt like some kind of terrible consequences would be had for this day.


	13. The Christmas Catastrophe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time. Will all be calm or is disaster lurking around the corner?

Chapter 13  
The Christmas Catastrophe

 

It wasn’t long after the meeting that Christmas seemed to roll around. America was usually one to throw the largest parties in the world, and he certainly was not letting that tradition die anytime soon. Prussia had stayed at Canada’s house ever since the world meeting. As such Canada stood at the base of his stairs looking at his watch. It was two days before Christmas. They were supposed to already be on the road, but Gilbert was currently causing mischief that Matthew wanted nothing to do with. If he got Gilbert out of the house maybe he could avoid trouble later on, “Come on, Gilbert! We should go! It’s a long drive”  
Prussia came walking down the stairs his phone in hand. Germany had always been one to celebrate Christmas quietly and without much flare, but this year Prussia had a plan to get Germany to America’s Christmas party. As he walked down the stairs he dialed his brother’s number and alf way down the stairs he pressed dial.  
Canada’s eyes widened as Gilbert raised the phone to his ear,  
“You’re not really going to do-” Matthew was silenced when Prussia reached the bottom of the stairs and gently put his hand over his boyfriend’s mouth. Prussia waited for his brother to pick up. It was the same gruff tone as ever. Germany was still stoic even during the holidays, but before Germany could even finish his, “Gilbert, vhat do you want?”

Prussia was screaming, “Oh mein Gott, West!” He cried into the phone like the world was ending. Matthew pulled away from his boyfriend and rolled his eyes. He really didn’t think this was the best way to get Germany to America’s Christmas party, but Prussia refused to listen. “Ludwig! It’s happening again! Zhit iz going down at unawezomez again! Get over to America’s house now! I’vz got to go! Ve need you bruder!” With that Prussia hung up the phone and smirked at Canada, “He willz be at America’s Chriztmas Party zoon!”  
Canada face palmed as Prussia snickered. There wasn’t much he could do though. Prussia had stolen his phone that morning so he couldn’t call Germany and tell him not to freak out. With little else to do Canada took Prussia to his car. The albino nation had insisted that he drive, and they were already arguing before they even left the driveway.  
“No.”  
“Come on!”  
“No.”  
“You never give me a chance.”  
“Nope. Not with the car.”  
“Come on! I haven’t driven anywhere in longz time! I’m probably zo much more awezome by now!”  
“You know Gilbert. I can’t die via car wreck, but you can. I suggest we try to get there as safely as possible.”  
They bickered most of the way to Alfred’s house. Once they arrived they began the task of unpacking everything they brought. They walked up to the door of America’s house with their arms full of presents. They knocked on the front door and waited for the ever-hyper Southern twin.  
Inside the house, Britain and France were already there. France had once again found his way to America’s liquor cabinet and Britain was sitting on the couch drinking tea. His thick eyebrows raised when he heard a knock on the front door, “America. I think your brother is here!” He called out to his son, “We can probably bake the Christmas cookies now!”

“YAY! Matt and Gil!” Ever since the world meeting, America had warmed up to Gilbert considerably. Trusting him almost completely, it was hard to remember a future America that had once come to them, dying, to deliver an important message with his last breath. It had all seemed like a bad dream. And with the world meeting over, and with Matthew finally safe, Gilbert guarding him, America’s nightmares and worries had almost completely vanished. The only change in him now, was that he was far more dedicated to his family than ever before.  
Flinging the door open wide, he greeted the couple with a huge grin.  
“Merry Christmas little bro! Gil!” He was as loud as always, and when he came in to hug his brother, he more or less ended up crushing him. “Come on in you guys! We have the best Christmas tree this year! It’s huge! Oh and dudes! The cake this year is ten layers! And it’s in the shape of a Christmas tree! And it’s green! And there’re lights on it! Japan already said he won’t be attending this year, because he’s afraid my cake will put a curse on him or something.”  
Grabbing his brother’s wrist in one hand and Gil’s in the other, he dragged the two inside.  
“Britain and France are already here, but other than that, you’re the first to arrive!” He dragged them over to his huge tree. A lot of presents were already underneath it. “That little square one over there is for you bro! You’re gunna love your present this year!”  
Finally releasing them, he turned to Gilbert.  
“Did you really get Germany and Italy to come? I can normally never get them over here, but I’d love to have them part of the party, since they helped us out so much during that whole Russia fiasco.”  
Canada nodded and was about to answer for Gilbert when America already exploded with excitement.  
“Really? Oh awesome! The more people the better the party! Hold on, let me go turn some music on!” And then he was running off in a tizzy to go find the best Christmas party music he could. 

It was a few hours later when a frantic, pounding knock came from America’s front door. By this time, the party was in full swing. Although, he’d planned a grand festive party; For once in his life, America had wanted to keep the party to close friends and family. Perhaps it was just another part of his new family oriented personality. But whatever the reason, he was still ecstatic when he heard the knock on his door.  
“Oh my God! Germany and Italy did come this year!” Leaping over the table where he had been decorating the Christmas cookies with Arthur, he raced to the door. Flinging it open wide like he had done with Matthew and Gilbert, he greeted the Germany counties with a loud,  
“Merry Christmas!”  
Germany stood at the door, his face pale and his eyes full of confusion. He was huffing and puffing a bit, clearly, he and Italy had run there from the airport. Poor Italy looked like he was about to die from the run. Hunched over, he clung to Germany’s side for support as he wheezed. Gasping and panting, he held himself up by fistfuls of Germany’s uniform.  
Germany stared at America, who was wearing a Santa outfit, minus the beard. But man, he even had the hat on. America outstretched his arms in welcome, then gestured to his house.  
“Come on in! You really haven’t missed anything! France isn’t even blitzed yet!”  
Germany gaped. When he looked passed America and into the house, he found a very festive environment indeed. There was a tree…and lights…and decorations…and music…and…did he smell cookies?  
“V…Vhat the hell is goink on here?” America laughed.  
“Haha! Funny dude! It’s a Christmas party! Haven’t you ever been to one before?”  
“I…I…vhat?” America lowered his arms, then scratched at the back of his neck in confusion.  
“Dude, you look rough. You ok?”  
It was then that Germany started to piece together what had happened. Judging by America’s stupid, clueless, face, he had no part of this monstrous plan. Germany started to tremble in place, his rage building.  
Oh mein Gott! Gilbert tricked me into coming to one of America’s stupid Christmas parties!  
Poor Italy continued to wheeze at Germany’s side, still having not been able to catch his breath. Germany looked to him and his rage only increased. There had been no need to run, no need to push the little country so hard ever since they left the airport.  
Germany let out a gruff, sudden growl. And then, without warning, he grabbed Italy and shoved him into America’s arms.  
“You! Hold him up vhile I go beat zee shnot out of my so called bruder!” And with that, he marched passed America and into the house. Steam, literally flying from his nostrils, he looked around the room. Then, seeing Prussia seated at the big table with the rest of the countries making cookies, he zeroed in on him and began to march over, his feet pounding the floor.  
“You! I’m goink to teach you a permanent lesson about lyink to your bruder about emergenzy situations!”

“Oh Shizer!” Prussia hopped up from his chair as he saw his little brother, who just happened to be taller than him, rapidly approaching. It drew the attention of everyone who was currently making cookies.  
“What did you do?” Arthur questioned from his seat, but of course Prussia didn’t take the time to answer the island nation. France couldn’t help but laugh at the plight of his friend.  
“It’s your own fault, Gilbert. I told you not to do it.” Canada chastised without even looking up from his chair. Canada knew this was going to happen. The quiet nation was a bit shocked when he felt his boyfriend’s hands on his shoulder dragging him out of his chair.  
“E-EH!” Canada cried as Prussia pulled his boyfriend up and held him in front of him like a human shield. Canada’s violet eyes grew huge when he looked forward and saw a very fierce looking Germany quickly approaching. Canada started to struggle as Prussia kept a firm hold on his shirt with his one good hand, his second hand was still injured from his encounter with Russia. Canada tried to get out of the way, but Gilbert was stealthily staying safely behind his boyfriend’s back as he explained his actions, “Now West! It was the only way I could get you here wid de awezome me!” Canada squirmed in front of Prussia.  
“I-I tried to call y-you Germany, but he stole my phone!”  
“Traitor!” Prussia cried from behind his boyfriend.  
“Traitor nothing! I told you it was a bad idea, Gilbert!” Canada cried as Germany got ever closer.  
“You’ll protect me, right Birdie?” Prussia felt sweat run down his face as Germany got closer.  
“You idiot! I told you not to lie! You did this to yourself! Let me go!” Canada tried to pull away, but damn Prussia could cling.  
“Your mein boyfriend! You’re supposed to protect your injured boyfriend!” Prussia argued.  
“Not from your own stupidity I won’t!” Canada raised his hands up in front of his face as Germany reached them. Prussia’s eyes twitched as Germany grabbed Canada and ripped him away from Prussia. He shoved the innocent nation safely behind him. Now he had a clear path to his brother  
Prussia smiled as he backed up a few steps, “I brought you a Christmas present, West. Something awezome!” He laughed nervously. Prussia quickly backed up as his brother advanced further. Then Gilbert took off running through the house, screaming apologies as he went and Germany chased after him.  
Canada came over to Italy and America, “Come on Italy. Let’s get you sitting down. I’ll bring you some eggnog. Britain made it.”

Italy’s face had started to light up with delight at the mention of eggnog! But then it fell to utter disappointment when he heard Britain had made it. America cracked up at the sight of him.  
“Aw! It’s not that bad dude! I made sure it was ok before I put it out. I may have added a secret ingredient when he wasn’t looking too!”  
“Ooo!” And then Italy perked right back up. Having finally caught his breath, he stood upright and followed Canada into the party. And with his air back in his lungs, he of course, began to talk at a hundred miles an hour as he usually did.  
“Canada! Canada! Germania and I were-a-at-a his house! And we were-a-eating-a breakfast! And while we were-a-eating, he said he got me a Christmas present! Ve! And I’m so excited! Because this year, I asked for something-a-really spechiallah! And I-a-can’t tell you what it is, because he made me-a-promise not to tell anyone what he got me! But I’m just so excited! I had to-a-tella at least-a someone! Ve!”  
And as Italy and Canada started over toward the eggnog and cookies, Germany chased poor Prussia back into one of the hallways near the back of America’s house. The group could hear the older German brother screaming as he received whatever punishment Germany felt fit for him.  
As if this were totally normal, Italy sat down at the table with everyone else. Clearly excited to decorate some cookies, he grabbed a tube of sugar icing. There were several different colors available, and in no time at all, he’d created an artistic masterpiece worthy of rivaling a Van Gogh. As America came over, he gaped.  
“Wow! Nice job dude!” Italy smiled up at him.  
“What, this? This is-a-nothing. I’ll do better on the next one!”  
A few minutes later, Germany and Prussia emerged back into the living room. Germany still looked disgruntled, but seemed like he’d let off some steam.  
Feeling better about being tricked into a party, but still a bit disgruntled, Germany finally headed over to the table where everyone else was. Stepping up next to Italy, he took a look at his cookies.  
Immediately his anger was forgotten as he took a look at his handiwork. Even with something as simplistic as icing cookies…he somehow managed to make things beautiful. It was certainly masterful in the way he’d managed to mix and swirl the colors together in abstract yet beautiful patterns. Germany knew he’d never cease to be amazed by him.  
“Can ve hang those in an art muzeum?” He said. Italy lifted his head from his work, gazing up at the chiseled country. A bright smile came over his sweet face.  
“They’re just-a-cookies Ludwig,” he said modestly. Germany’s blue eyes drifted to the corner of Feliciano’s mouth. When he’d lifted his head, he immediately took note of the small smear of blue icing that rested just next to his soft lips.  
Germany’s cheeks pinkened. Then, without thinking much of it, he reached out, rubbing his thumb up against the offending spot.  
“You had some schmutz…” Italy, always happy to be touched in any way, shape or form from Germany, immediately brightened, his own cheeks pinkening as he giggled.  
“Ludwig! You should-a make-a cookies with us! Sit down next to me! Have-a-some eggnog! Britain made it, but then America fixed it so that it’s good!”  
“Hey!” Britain objected. 

Prussia sat across the table next to his boyfriend once more. He looked around the table and not wanting to move grabbed his boyfriend’s cup of eggnog and began drinking it. At first he looked a little pissy, but his annoyance gave rise to pranks. He took his paper napkin in hand and ripped off some corners, crumpled them into small balls, and then threw it at his brother. He was enjoying himself even as his brother shot a glare his way.  
“Italy!” Prussia suddenly got a brilliant idea, “How about you come with me to town. I have to grab something from the store!” Prussia’s smirk was priceless. He was obviously plotting something, “I need your help. I can drive us into town!”  
Canada choked on the cookie dough he was eating at the thought of those two anywhere near his car. Prussia’s grin was priceless though as he stared across the table at his younger brother.  
“You vouldn’t mind. Would you, West?”

But the thing was, that he very much did mind. Italy was a very clingy person, yes, and when the two had first gotten together, Italy was nothing but aggravating for the larger country. Italy was just…just…there all the time! When he woke, when he slept, when he ate, when he needed the bathroom, when he traveled, when he went to war, when he went to meetings. Italy was glued to his side practically every second of every day.  
He’d wanted to scream from feeling smothered at the time. And Germany felt more than a little guilt at how abusive he used to be to Italy when they’d first gotten together.  
Vell…he vas my war prisoner back den… he reminded himself. But now, the truth was that Germany needed Italy around too. It was no longer one sided. The smaller country had grown on him and he’d become used to his company. They’d officially become allies in 1914 and so…the way Germany saw it, they’d been together for over a hundred years. Of course he’d gotten to a point where he just couldn’t be without him anymore.  
He sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“Feliciano, vhat vould you like to do?”  
“Oh, oh! Umm…umm! I a-need to-a go get you a present Ludwig, but…but…but-!” And of course, Germany understood his predicament very well, because he knew Feliciano didn’t want to be separated either.  
“Neither of you can drive,” Germany said. “You’ll both be killed. Vhat if I came along just to drive zee car? I’ll stay behind zee wheel vhile you shop vith Gilbert.” Italy jumped up out of his chair and quickly clapped his hands with excitement.  
“Ve! That sounds-a-wonderful!” America couldn’t help but to overhear the outing expedition plan.  
“Dudes, if you’re heading out, grab more booze. Stupid France is drinking me out of house and home again.” He glared his second father’s way. “He should probably leave some for the rest of us!” 

“Hon, Hon, Hon! Amerique! It’s Christmas. It is a time to give. You s’ould be in la s’aring mood!” France smiled. His cheeks were pink from the alcohol in his system.  
“Papa. It’s still early and you’re getting drunk already.”  
“W’ich reminds me mon petit, Mattieu! ‘ow has mine old friend been treating you… in bed?”  
“PAPA!” Canada cried his cheeks turning red.  
Prussia smirked from his place at the table. A triumphant look on his face. He looked like he was about to say something, but Canada reached out smacking his boyfriend in the back of the head. Across the table Britain also smacked France. France only laughed it off.  
“Would you stop saying things like that!”  
“Now. Now. It is only a natural. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Germany how is Italy treating you in bed?” Prussia burst out laughing from his spot at the table. He clutched his gut as he looked towards his brother with squinted eyes.

Germany quickly changed colors from his usual pale white to a beautiful blooming red. His cold blue eyes flickered away as embarrassment took him over. Italy only smiled brightly his way.  
“Ludwig is-a very a-bashful person,” Italy announced to his new friends. “He act’s so-a-tough, but he’s actually very shy! In fact, I haven’t-a been able to get him-to-a take me to bed yet and-a-!”  
“Feliciano!” Germany bellowed in humiliation. Blinking, the smaller nation looked over to his partner, a look of innocence on his sweet face.  
“What? Romance is a perfectly-a-wonderful topic of conversation! And Canada and Prussia are-a talking about theirs!” Germany reached out, grabbing the top of Italy’s brunette head. Germany’s hand was so large, that it almost encompassed the entirety of the top of Italy’s skull.  
“Dis is not appropriate conversation at all!” He said as he shook him, his cheeks still burning furiously. “Dat is a very private topic!”  
But it was way too late to cover it up by that point. Everyone had heard what Italy had said, and America for one was looking shocked from his place at the table. He’d been busy shoving cookies into his face, but at the news, his mouth fell open, crumbs raining down to the table top. He lifted his head, fixing his stunned blue eyes onto Germany.  
“Dude…you haven’t slept with him yet?” He asked in astonishment. Poor Germany couldn’t get any redder. But somehow he did. America shook his head in sympathy for poor Italy. “Dude…you guys have been together since when? 1914? That…that’s just not cool. He’s obviously crazy about you, you should just go ahead and seal the deal man.”  
Germany trembled in place, overcome with which emotion he wasn’t even sure.  
“D…dat is none of your buizness!”  
“It is now. It came out at a party dude.”  
“Shut zee hell up!” 

Britain reached out nonchalantly taking a sugar cookie from the plate in front of him.  
“I concur whole heartedly. 100 years? Are you daft man? I mean I thought you two would have been snogging for a while now. You were all he talked about while he was my prisoner back then.”  
Prussia fell over on the table laughing hysterically and beat his fist into the table repeatedly as he tried to control himself, but it obviously wasn’t working. Tears streamed from the albino’s eyes.  
“Mein gott West!” He laughed as he continued to beat the table top. Canada turned to Germany looking at him with sympathy.  
“Guys. Leave it alone. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t blame him. It should be private if that’s the way he wants it. Papa.” He said the last word with a firm tone. He turned to shoot a glare France’s way, but he blinked in confusion when he saw France was gone, “Papa?”  
France had covertly snuck around to Italy during the commotion and was pulling the brunette into his arms.  
“Hon! You poor thing! Mon bed is always open, mon petit Italy!”

Germany looked like he was about to blow a gasket. His usual tell-tale vein, signaling danger, popped to life in his forehead as his face steamed hotter than a teakettle. With a gruff growl, there was a “CRACK,” and France had been slammed over the head with a hardened fist. As the drunken, pervert, wobbled, Germany took his chance and grabbed his partner out from his grip.  
“Das ist meins!” (That’s mine!) Holding Feliciano close to his side, possessively, and aggressively, everyone could see how much Italy really really enjoyed it. His smile was brighter than the sun, his brown eyes squinting shut in joy.  
“I appreciate-a the support everyone, but I think-a-you misunderstood.” Lifting his eyes, the effeminate Italian gazed at Ludwig’s tomato red face, clearly smitten. “I like waiting. And I-a-like that-a Ludwig is-a-waiting too. It means…that when he’s-a-finally ready…it’ll be…the most magical…most-a-wonderful…most-a-stupendous…most-a-specialla…most-a-terrific…most-a-!”  
“Ok! We get it, move on pasta dude!” America interrupted. Italy only giggled, his eyes never leaving Ludwig’s reddened face, even though all the stronger country could seem to do was stare at a wall. He couldn’t bear to meet anyone’s gaze.  
Italy didn’t mind waiting at all, because they already shared so many special moments together. And he enjoyed every second of every waking day with his partner. He loved just being around the German, and watching his facial expressions change, and to watch his moods shift. And what was more, something he’d never say in front of the other countries, was that he knew Germany needed time. And lots of it before they could have sex together.  
Feliciano knew, where others didn’t, that intimacy terrified the hardened country. He knew Ludwig was scared. Scared to let anyone close, to let anyone near. That was why he always appeared so torn when it came to physical touch. Feliciano knew that Germany wanted it, perhaps more than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life…but Feliciano had also seen the way his face changed every time they started to fool around with one another.  
Ludwig had been so hurt in the past. And because of that, Feliciano knew he needed to keep on working at tearing down that wall he’d put up around himself. That wall…was the reason they couldn’t take the final step in their relationship. And Italy, being who he was, and being one of the most romantic and intimate countries of the world, completely understood that simply jumping his boyfriend would cause tremendous damage. If Germany wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready. Italy knew he could have been a bit more insistent or forceful and Germany would give in just because Italy wanted him too…but…he could never do that.  
Above all else, Feliciano loved Ludwig. And he knew…that when the time came…Ludwig would initiate it himself. So, until that day came, he would wait. And while he waited, he would enjoy every single second of seeing his red face, his averted eyes, and his resistance to the very thing that he knew would set him free.  
None of the other countries of course were aware of what Italy had going on in his head, as such, the rowdy-ness of the conversation continued.  
Prussia was still laughing. Fitfully. He was almost in a knot he was bent over so far. Germany glowered.  
“Like you’re von to talk! You! Whose slept vith every verdammt (damn) country in Europe! You’re a whore big bruder!”

Prussia’s laughing ceased immediately when his little brother brought up his past... flings? He didn’t know what to really call them. Most of the time they were simply one night stands or for simple fun. It hadn’t been like it was now. Now he felt something for the person he was finally with. He and Matthew had simply started as acquaintances. His infatuation with Canada at first had simply been for free food. That had turned into an awkward friendship, real friendship, and then more. What he felt now was a feeling that built up over time. It was something he hadn’t felt from any one night fling or passing romance and before Matthew he had never really thought he was capable of feeling it.  
France’s red cheeks went up as he smiled.  
“Mon ami. I know we had a few flings, but… Hon. Hon. Hon. Who haven’t you slept with?”  
Prussia’s face turned to one of shock.  
“Nein! We don’z need to go zere! Itz nobodies fucking buiznezz!” Prussia protested angrily. This particular conversation could lead to nothing good. It would only wind up hurting Canada. That was something Prussia wanted to avoid. Gilbert glanced over at his boyfriend nervously. Canada sat in his chair having fallen silent. He stared at a spot on the table cloth with an intense glare. Obviously he didn’t want to hear about his boyfriend’s overzealous love life before they’d met, but he didn’t want to leave the room either. Hand trembling a bit, he reached out taking a tube of icing in his hand. Trembling he began to squeeze the icing onto the cookie trying to keep himself occupied.  
“Why do you think I was so opposed to you in the first place?” Britain piped in picking up his tea cup. He took a sip of warm tea and then turned back to Prussia, “That is why I thought you being with Matthew was such a bad idea. You do tend to move around fairly quickly, Gilbert. I figured you were trying for a one night hook up, and I know Matthew is sensitive. I thought you would end up hurting him.”  
France’s “Hon. Hon. Hon.” Filled the room. The pervy country slunk over to Prussia who was looking more and more pissed with each moment, “So who was the last person you were with Prussia? When was that as well? Didn’t you and angleterre(Britain) hook up there for a bit?”  
Britain spit out his tea at the mention of that. His eyes turning white with horror.  
“H-hey! I don’t bringz up yourz pazt affairs, arshlock!” (asshole) Prussia brought his hands down on the table rattling a few of the plates off to his side. He glared at France.  
France didn’t seem to realize he should stop either. It most likely had something to do with the alcohol in his system. He danced around Prussia snickering and whispering much like a drunken maniac. At the table Matthew’s tube of icing was completely empty. He had emptied the entire thing on one cookie. As his papa continued to dance around like a moron antagonizing his boyfriend.  
Matthew felt anger boil to life inside of him. He reached out grabbing his icing covered cookie, turned, and threw it in France’s face. Huffing he crossed his arms and looked away from his Papa. France blinked. He was obviously shocked by his son’s act of cookie violence. Matthew was so sweet and so soft spoken that it took a moment for France to realize what had happened. He stared at his son and seemed to suddenly realize he’d gone too far with his jibes.  
“Sorry….”  
The apology seemed to make everything a bit awkward in the room, but Matthew’s outburst did nothing to relieve Prussia’s rage. In fact it only made him angrier. With a war cry he tackled his friend to the floor. He wrestled France to the living room carpet pinning him down.  
“You arsh!” He twisted France’s arm behind his back, “Take backz what you zaid! Britain and I never-!”  
Britain stood up on his side of the table slamming his hands down as he stuttered,  
“Y-y-y-you go-go-got that ri-right! Take it back you stupid, Frog!” Britain ran over to his brother and started yanking at France’s hair. Before long all three were tussling on the floor.  
Canada finally looked up. He gazed out at nothing as the fight continued off to his side. Slowly he stood up and started to walk down the hallway. Maybe it was time he found his brother’s liquor cabinet. Heavens knew he was the only one who didn’t aim to get blitzed at America’s house. Maybe it was time to try it. He really needed to erase the last ten minutes from his brain. Forever. It needed to vanish. Maybe a little drinking was just what he needed to survive this Christmas with his family.

America had thoroughly been stuffing his face with more sugar cookies during the entire fiasco. He watched and listened, but couldn’t really speak due to his full mouth. All the same when the three oldest countries in the room started wrestling on the floor like a bunch of little kids, even he’d had enough of it. Aren’t they the ones that’re supposed to be the adults around here? He wondered.  
He watched Matthew get up. Knowing his brother was probably fairly disturbed at the news, who wouldn’t be? I mean I knew Prussia was a man-whore but still, even I wasn’t aware that he’s slept with everyone in my family except for me… And that thought was rightfully…very unsettling. He shuddered as he thought about it, but also knew that the instances they were talking about all happened a really, really long time ago. Probably way back when Prussia was still a country. As such, he knew Matthew needed a little comforting. Wordlessly, he swallowed his last mouthful of cookies, and then he got up to follow his brother out of the room.  
Only a few steps behind him, he followed him down the hall and into the room where he had his liquor cabinet. Watching Canada move toward the glass case, America leaned casually against the doorframe. Crossing his arms across his chest, he couldn’t help but to scoff.  
“Really bro? You? Last time I checked, alcohol makes you vomit.” He waved a hand in the air nonchalantly. “You should just stick to the eggnog. There’s a little bit a booze in it, but not much. Even you can handle it.”

Canada stopped in his brother’s liquor room. He shrugged his shoulders at his brother’s comment. Canada didn’t feel the need to correct America,  
“At least I can legally drink in my country.” He turned back around to face his brother with a smirk on his face, “Unlike someone I know.”  
He walked over to his brother. He took America’s hand into his own. He brought his brother’s hand up and positioned it in the center of his forehead.  
“Karate chop me. One good time. It’s the only other way. If I wake up and remember any of what just happened, do it again.”  
Slowly a smile came back onto his face though, “Hey I have a present for you. It’s in my room. Come on.” He walked around Alfred and down the hall to the guest room he was staying in. Once there he pulled his suitcase onto the bed and slowly opened it.  
“When I saw this I thought of you. So this is like a surprise Christmas present.” He handed a small, wrapped package to his brother. “I guess it’s better late than never, right?” America took the colored package in his hands. He looked to his little brother briefly, then let his usual big smile overtake his face. Always excited about presents, he immediately tore into the paper in his usual fitful way.  
Canada watched his brother unwrap the package to find a red Gameboy hidden within. The Pokemon red video game was also present.  
“This is not an admission of guilt either. I just stumbled across it at Britain’s house while visiting.”

America stared at the gift. He held the Gameboy in his hands in something close to amazement. It actually was his old Gameboy. He knew because it was rather beat-up looking, and one of its corners was melted from that time he’d bet Matthew that he could set anything on fire.  
It had been many long years, and so, he really didn’t care so much about finishing up his Pokemon game from his childhood, but…the gift was still incredibly sentimental. He couldn’t help but to smile.  
“Where did you finally find this?” But as Canada opened his mouth to answer, Alfred lifted a hand to wave him off. “You know what, don’t tell me! It’s better this way.” A look of delight on his face, he looked to his little brother, then immediately thought of his own gift.  
“Hey! Stay right here! I’ll go get yours!” Still holding his old toy, Alfred excitingly ran out of the room. He was gone for only a few moments, then came running back in with medium sized, square package, wrapped in his usual overzealous wrapping paper with shine and confetti on it.  
“Here bro!” He shoved it into Canada’s hands. “Merry Christmas!” He watched, clearly pleased with himself as Canada first inspected the gift, then started to unwrap it in that annoyingly slow, methodical way of his.  
“Oh my God! You never just tear the paper off like you should.”  
“Alfred! For the last time! Stop telling me how to open my gifts!” But America only laughed. In the end, he had to wait for Matthew to open his gift at his own speed. But once the paper was off, he was met with a very nice, stained wooden box.  
“Open it! Open it!” Alfred cried. Matthew had to laugh. His brother was like a toddler. Doing as his brother wanted, Canada lifted the lid. Inside, he was quite surprised to find a gun.  
“I…oh!” Before Canada had a chance to think about it, or question it, Alfred was at his side. Reaching over his shoulder, he took a hold of the gun, clearly not shy around weapons. Flipping it over in his hands, he showed it off to his twin.  
“This is a Ruger P85 Mk II 9mm Semi-Auto Hi-Cap Pistol!” He said. “It’s similar to an older model that my cops in New York used to use. See, it’s small enough for someone like you to handle, and the kickback isn’t so bad, so it’s pretty good even for first time users. The sight on it is pretty good too, see?” He held it up, pointing and aiming at nothing in particular in the bedroom. “Of course, we can adjust it for you, if you need to. But I can show you how to load it and clean it safely, and we can even have shooting lessons. Actually…I really recommend we have those…” Glancing his brother’s way, he saw the nervous look on his face.  
“Oh…don’t worry. It’s not loaded right now. Look, the clip’s still in the box.” He chuckled, his eyes squinting shut in delight. “You wanna hold it?” 

Canada’s indigo eyes stayed on his brother.  
“You remember I fought in wars, right? Some of them I fought with you.” He tried to remind his brother he did know how to handle guns. “Al….” He watched his brother holding his Christmas present. Matthew was a bit confused by the whole thing. Matthew wasn’t like his brother, and he never had an urge to own a lot of guns. He used them during war, but that was about all. Why would Alfred buy him a gun? As he looked at his twins face he smiled back at his brother. Alfred was excited by his present. Even if Canada thought the present was odd he couldn’t dash his brother’s joy. So he nodded his head and held out his hands to take the gun. He looked at his brother examining him.  
“Alfred? What made you want to buy me a gun of all things?”

Alfred handed him the gun back. Of course he knew Matthew had fought in wars. And he’d been very very grateful for the help he’d received in a few tight situations he’d found himself in. But…Matthew was still his little brother. And he was so shy…and so timid…and so quiet. It was easy to think of him as completely helpless sometimes, even though when the shit hit the fan…Matthew had always proven himself to be one tough country.  
Glancing off and to the side, Alfred’s smile softened a bit, his expression changing.  
“I know guns aren’t your favorite thing in the world, Matt, but…I just thought you should have one near you. Especially when you’re in your house, or when you’re alone.” Turning to look at his brother once more, Matthew could see him force a strained smile onto his face. But being his twin, he could easily see the worry that hid underneath that grin.  
“I can’t be with you all the time. And even when I am with you…you still get pushed down the stairs…so…this way, if Russia ever comes for you again, and I’m not there, you can just shoot ‘em in the face!”  
He made a quick jabbing motion in the air in front of him, clearly getting a bit pumped up just thinking about it. Perhaps there was some unresolved anger there toward the largest nation in the world.  
“It wouldn’t kill him, being a country and all…but it’ll give you plenty of time to run away!”

Matthew stared at his brother. His eyes went back to the gun in his hands. Alfred had put a lot of thought into this gift. All things considered this was probably the most thought-out present his brother had ever given him and all because America was still worried about his safety? Matthew frowned at his brother.  
“It’s been a month since then Alfred. I’m ok.” He reached up touching the cheek that had been injured all that time ago. He was completely healed and all. It had healed the day after it had happened, actually.  
The physical pain was long gone, but Canada knew the guilt America felt had not healed. Neither had the fear his brother had felt during the world conference. Matthew still remembered his brother’s terrified voice calling through the corridors when Alfred had come looking for him, and Matthew would never forget that Alfred had come to find him. His brother had left the rest of the world behind and come looking for him. He reached out wrapping his arm around his brother’s shoulders and held him tightly.  
“It’s not your fault I fell down the stairs, Al. You don’t have to feel guilty about that.” Canada knew words wouldn’t absolve America of what lingering guilt he felt because of what had happened, but he hoped it helped his brother. Slowly he let his brother go. He squeezed the gun in his hands and raised it to his shoulder so he could look down the barrel. Matthew found himself looking down the gun so he could get a feel for it.  
“Ok. Let's go. Show me how it works.” He headed toward the door and waited for his brother, “Lead the way Al.” He held the gun out to America.

Back in the living room Britain, Prussia, and France had stopped fighting. Prussia had followed his younger brother to the store in town and Britain and France were sitting apart from each other on the couch. The two parent nations looked up as the twins walked in. Britain was trying to straighten his disheveled clothes while France drank eggnog. When Britain saw the gun his eyes widened.  
“What the hell is that?” Matthew smiled at his father.  
“This is my Christmas present from Alfred. We’re going to go fire the gun. We’ll be back later.” Britain gave America a strange look.  
"What kind of Christmas present is that Alfred?”

But America, always sensing an easy opportunity to tease Arthur, only smiled brightly.  
“The awesome kind!” Laughing, he threw an arm around Canada’s back and steered him right out the door. “Let’s go shoot the neighbor’s cat! That thing’s been shrieking outside my window at night!”  
“Alfred!” Britain cried.  
“Hahaha! Just kidding! No need to get your panties in a twist, mom!” And just like that, the twin brothers were outside and in the cold of the December night, playing with guns just like when they were little.

Meanwhile, out on the town, Germany sat in the car, keeping it on, but in park as he’d promised, while Italy and Prussia ran around the entire world window shopping or doing whatever else it was they were doing. He sighed heavily, already bored.  
“Oi vey…you think he’d ‘ave thought to buy somethink before zee very night of zee party…” But he knew it was really all just part of having a boyfriend. Especially a boyfriend who pretty much acted like a girlfriend in every imaginable way. Or rather, it was just part of being with Feliciano.  
He never plans ahead for anythink… he thought. And even though that really annoyed the German in him who was always prepared and punctual and diligent…he somehow really enjoyed Feliciano’s spontaneity too. It was refreshing, and in fact, almost necessary to his survival to be forced to break out of routine from time to time. If it wasn’t for Italy…Ludwig knew he’d wrap himself up in a daily ritual that was so structured and rigorous that he might as well just forfeit whatever life he had left. In a way…it was Feliciano that saved him…rather than just the other way around.  
I just vish I could tell him such thingz… he thought a bit woefully. But he recognized how terrible he truly was when it came to things like sharing feelings. He hardly ever opened up. And it was a shame, because he knew that all Italy ever wanted from him was just that. He would have loved to hear a kind word. Sighing, Ludwig leaned against the car door, gazing out at the beautiful night around him.  
Snow had fallen in this part of America the night before. As such, the world was white and shining. It very much looked, and felt like a true Christmas. And because they were in town, there were Christmas lights everywhere. They lined the streets and the shops, and there were displays in every window. Colored bulbs blinked on and off, getting reflected in the glass of the car he sat in. He watched as shoppers looked for last minute gifts, smiles on their faces, wrapped treasures complete with bows in their arms. It was a sight to behold.  
He sighed heavily again, unable to cheer himself up. The mood wasn’t lost on him; it was just that he sometimes found it hard to get wrapped up in all the hype and excitement of the holidays. Especially when he had someone so special in his life that he really felt like he didn’t always deserve.  
All dat talk back at zee party ‘as really gotten to me… he realized. And he knew that was the real reason he felt so down on himself.  
It had indeed…been just over one hundred years.  
I just can’t believe ve’ve been together for so long, he thought in awe. I feel like I met him yesterday. Ludwig watched as a couple walked down the street, gloved hand in gloved hand. The young woman leaned her head in, resting it on her love’s shoulder. Germany felt his heart pick up pace. Mostly because he knew exactly how he felt about Feliciano.  
I love him, he thought. So vhy can’t I just show him? And with that thought, he suddenly had the feeling that even though he was struggling with his own emotions…somehow…Italy would have already known all about this. Was that why he was so patient? Was that why he was always so understanding?  
He never getz angry vhen I’m so cold and distant…and he’s never once seemed hurt dat I’ve made him vait so long…  
Thinking back across their very long, very tumultuous relationship, there had of course been plenty of advances on a romantic level by both nations. They’d fooled around with one another plenty of times, and there had been uncountable make-out sessions on the couch. But…they’d simply never rounded to home-base. And Germany really hadn’t thought anything of it until that evening. But with it all out in the open, and worst of all, in front of other countries, he was really forced to finally take a moment and analyze it.  
And Germany was so very good at analyzing things. It was why he was the most worrisome country of all. He just never stopped nit-picking, and thinking, and obsessing. And once he started it was even harder to stop.  
But…with this particular subject…there wasn’t too much to really delve into. He already had all the answers he needed. He knew how Feliciano felt about him. The other country had made it perfectly clear. And Ludwig knew just how he felt about him too. He was cute. Criminally so. He drove him crazy…but in a way that he secretly enjoyed. He forced him to live every day, instead of simply being alive. He cooked him food, and offered him smiles when he didn’t deserve them. And he was always, always at his side.  
Something he’d once hated…but now knew he couldn’t ever live without.  
Feliciano was special. And Ludwig wanted nothing more than to make him happy, to please him. And now, sitting in the cold of the December air, on American soil, with the Christmas spirit all around him, he could recognize exactly how much Feliciano truly loved him.  
Looking back, Germany remembered the countless times they’d gotten hot and heavy with one another. And…he could also recall the reason they always stopped.  
It was because he’d been too scared to continue.  
Of course, Ludwig being who he was, had never said anything about it, but that was the thing with Italy…he didn’t need to. Italy sensed his moods and his emotions even when Germany himself didn’t always understand them. And in knowing that Germany was simply too insecure, too scared to seal the deal, things always inevitably cooled down in the end.  
But dey didn’t just cool down… he thought. Italy vas so thoughtful unt so casual about it dat I never felt guilty until now. I never even considered dat he may ‘ave vanted somethink more…  
Germany knew then that his forced vacation to America’s Christmas party was in fact the best thing that ever could have possibly have happened to him. It forced this entire thing out into the open. And as humiliating as it was to have the other countries know about it…it forced him to open his eyes. It forced him to take a look at his relationship with the smaller country and to understand what was taking place in it. And what was taking place, was that he had been unintentionally hurting the person he loved most.  
Due to cowardice, he thought harshly. And as he did, his ice blue eyes hardened in sudden and quite fierce determination. Zat it unacceptable. Quite quickly, he’d made a decision. And that decision was to ensure that Feliciano was happy, to ensure that he knew he was loved, that he was important to Ludwig.  
Germany understood that he had problems expressing himself, both verbally and physically…but that was something he was just going to have to change, at least in the privacy of his own home. Feliciano needed more than he was offering him. And by God he was going to give him whatever it was he needed.  
It was at that exact moment that Prussia and Italy returned back to the car. Opening the doors, Italy hopped into the front seat while Prussia climbed into the back.  
“Germania! Germania! I bought you just-a-the-most-a-perfect gift! You’re going to-a-love it!” Germany turned to look at the brunette, and when he laid his eyes on his adorable glowing face, he couldn’t help but to smile.  
“I’m sure it’z vonderful,” he said. Both Italy and Prussia both gaped. For a second, there was silence. But then, Italy burst out into a flurry of noise.  
“Dio mio! Germania smiled! And-a-then he-a said something nice!”  
“Oh mein Gott! Diz iz not my bruder! Who are you unt vhat ‘ave you done vith Ludwig?” Prussia screamed.  
The moment was crushed by all the noise; something Germany just wasn’t ever good at handling. Sighing heavily, he shook his head.  
“Forget it! If you’re goink to scream den I don’t vant to ‘ear it! Did you two get vhat you needed? Let’s head back to Amerika’s hawse.” But even with all the noise, and even through his objection, Ludwig held onto the truth he’d found within himself. He just enjoyed these regular moments so much, he dared not endanger them. He truly did feel the spirit of Christmas within him. And even as he put the car into gear, and even as he was yelling at the two to just shut up…the same small smile found its way back to his pale cheeks. He was going to give Feliciano a very Merry Christmas when they got back to Germany. 

As soon as they arrived back at America’s house their peaceful white Christmas party was interrupted by the sound of semi-automatic gun fire.  
“Ze hell!” Prussia cried as he stared out into the snowy whiteness as the gunfire continued. Prussia could see Britain and France on the porch staring out into the yard. Every now and then a certain spot in the yard would light up and the German brother’s could see America’s face illuminated as well as the gun in his hands. They could also see Matthew standing beside the trigger happy country. Both of the twins were wearing earplugs and were totally unaware that the trio of countries were back.  
“Unawezome!” Prussia screamed across the yard totally unheard by the earplug wearing twins. He took off running across the yard, “What ze hell are you two doing? It’z notz a warzone!”  
As Prussia got closer Matthew finally saw his boyfriend running over. He smiled and waved at his boyfriend. Then Matthew tapped his twin on the shoulder so he’d know to stop shooting. As America lowered his gun and glanced over, Prussia traipsed through the snow.  
“What are you two doing?” He asked again after both twins had removed their earplugs. Matthew continued to smile sheepishly at his boyfriend.  
“Alfred wants to make sure I have Russia target practice.” Matthew pointed down their homemade shooting range and nailed to a tree was a picture of Russia with a lot of holes in it. Prussia’s eye twitched as he stared at America who only grinned stupidly in response.  
“Zis vaz your idea wasn’t it.” Prussia stared.  
Canada smiled at his boyfriend and defended his twin, “Hey America just wants to make sure I’m prepared for anything,” Canada said.  
And it was then that Britain yelled from the porch.  
“I told the gun toting loon that it’s bloody Christmas, and it’s not time for fire arms. He won’t listen to me though.” America frowned his father’s way.  
“Well excuuuuse me for wanting our youngest family member to be safe!”  
Prussia smirked at America.  
“Thiz iz no way to spend Christmas, unawesome.” He reached out snagging the gun from the other country while his attention was turned to the European nations on the porch.  
“Hey!” America objected, but Prussia paid him no mind.  
“Let me zhow you whatz you zhould be doing on Christmas.” He turned back towards the car he’d just come from looking at his younger brother and Italy, “Hey West! Italy. Comez here! I want to showz you something!”

America didn’t really appreciate having his gun taken right out of his bare hands, and had Gilbert not been Matthew’s boyfriend, he probably would have been unhesitant to punch him in the face just to teach him a lesson. But…it was Gilbert. Not only was he important to Matthew, therefore making him automatically important to Alfred, but…Alfred also kinda liked the guy since the entire Russia, stair, incident. So, with nothing more than a pout, a “hmph” and then a childish kick at the snow with his shoes, he let it go. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he followed Gilbert and Matthew back toward the car.  
Inside of it, Germany had gotten out and was now at Italy’s door helping him out due to all the packages they had. Blinking, Ludwig looked up to see Prussia approaching with a gun in his hand.  
“Vhat zee hell are weapons doink at a Christmas party?” He demanded. And then, he promptly shoved poor Italy back into the passenger’s side of the car. With an adorable “oof!” he fell back against the seat. Germany stood in front of his door protectively until he was able to figure out if there was any danger posed by crazy America and the gun that was floating from hand to hand.  
“Iz Unawezome’z Chriztmaz party, ask himz.” Gilbert shrugged his shoulders. That truly was the answer to Germany’s question. Prussia took a moment to take the magazine out of the gun and make sure it was empty before opening the trunk and laying the weapon down. He turned back to America then raised a finger. It almost looked like the older country was going to share some ancient wisdom with the younger nations.  
“Thiz is the proper thingz to do on Chriztmaz. I uzed to do thiz with Ludwig when he was younger and totally more awezome, but I don’t know. We may die now. We zhall zee.” Gilbert said back to the North America twins. Canada felt his eyebrow arch in concern.  
“Gilbert what are you planning on doing?” He looked over at Germany who looked just as baffled by his brother’s behavior. Before Canada could get an answer though, Gilbert bent down acting like he was tying his shoe. Matthew watched him stealthily pick up some snow. A grin quickly came to his pale face. Then Prussia popped up quickly and chunked the snowball right in his unsuspecting brother’s face. He managed to hit the stunned German and danced around his fist going into the air in a victory jump.  
“AWEZOME! I ZTILL GOTZ IT!” Then he went down grabbing for more snow. Matthew found himself dodging behind the car and dragging his twin with him as his crazed boyfriend started to throw hand full’s of snow at the twins. Matthew found himself laughing from their hiding place.  
“You don’t want to do this Gilbert! Trust me!” He smirked in his brother’s direction, “We can take him.”

And immediately, a huge, wide grin spread over America’s face. He flashed it Canada’s way.  
“You bet we can! We had the most awesome snowball fights growing up! No one can beat us! Especially with me on your team! Come one Matt!” Immediately the North American twins began scooping snow up into their hands, packing up some nice baseball sized snowballs.  
Germany, however, stood by the car, still appearing quite shocked. Snow and ice dripped down his face, sending a freeze underneath his collar. Blinking, he gaped at the other nations as if they’d lost their minds.  
“V…vhat are you doink?”  
But of course, Italy, from within the car, understood exactly what was going on. Already excited, he climbed back out of the passenger’s seat.  
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Ludwig! It’s-a-snowball fight!” Immediately the little nation got down by Germany’s feet in order to scoop up some snow. “Come on Germania! It’s-a-fun!” Standing back up with his snow, he tossed it Prussia’s way. It hit him in the shoulder. Immediately, Prussia turned, a mischievous grin on his face.  
“You’re suppoze to be on mein side Italy!” But that surly didn’t stop him from chucking a fast one Italy’s way. It hit him square in the face.  
“Ooo!”  
“Italy!” For a second, Germany was worried, but then Feliciano started laughing.  
“Ooh! So-a-cold!” Wiping snow from his face, he smiled up at Germany once more. “Come on Ludwig! Have-a-some fun!” Italy ran forward, scooping more snow up, then tossed it over the trunk of the car and at the Northern twins.  
“Yow!” America cried. “You’re gunna get it dude!” And then, with their arsenal of snowballs they’d been making, the two twins came out of their hiding place, screaming war cries and firing as they went, wailing a snowball into Prussia, then into Italy, and then, one sailed Germany’s way.  
“Augh!” Ducking, it sailed harmlessly over his head. But…when he stood back up, he saw a vision of nations who once were at war with each other, laughing and smiling and playing in the snow. Italy had been running away from Canada, and when he tripped and fell, Canada proceeded to nail him with a well placed snow ball. Italy only laughed.  
It was contagious. Even for a hardened country like Germany. The corner of his mouth twitched, and as Italy got back up and started to run toward him, snowball in hand, Germany knew what he had to do. He had to play.  
Bending down, Germany scooped up a handful of snow, and as Italy rushed toward him, he tossed it forward.  
“Aii!” Italy shrieked, the snow nailing him in his shoulder. Even so, laughing wildly he cried out “Germany got me! He got me!” Then Italy reached him, grabbed his hands, and dragged him forward into the fight. “Play with us!”  
And just like that, it was heaven. Before Germany knew it, he wasn’t only just participating in the fight, but he was also running, and smiling, and God bless it, he was even laughing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun, if ever.  
“Matt! Over here!” America cried as he crawled up on top of a mound of snow near the edge of the yard. “King of the hill dudes! Take down the mighty Northern twins if you can!” Reaching out, he gripped Canada’s palm, then yanked him up on top of the hill with him. “Come on bro! Let’s take em all!” 

“Look at them. Frolicking around like a bunch of two year olds.” Britain said with a bit of cynicism in his voice. “You’d think they were kids again.” He stared out across the yard as the other nations ran and were merry. It was that seemingly stuck up attitude that had him perceived as some old twat by a lot of the other nations, but those close to the old British gentleman knew that below the surface Britain had a large heart. He just didn’t express it very well.  
But luckily France wasn’t going to let Britain sit on the side lines and stew in his ways. France snuck to the porch railing while Britain was distracted and picked up a handful of snow. He walked stealthily back over to Britain. Once he was standing behind Britain he reached out grabbing the collar of Britain’s shirt and green vest.  
At first Britain panicked a bit, “What the hell are you doing, frog!” He was heard across the yard and by all the other nations present.  
Then with a hon, hon, hon France dropped the icy substance down the back of Britain’s shirt.  
“Bloody hell!” Britain shrieked running off the porch and away from the other nation. All the while trying to do a dance and get the ice from his shirt. France laughed and followed him out into the yard and right into the snowball war zone. Matthew smirked as Arthur ran closer to them. He jabbed his brother in the side and held up a snow ball. Then he chunked it at his father who was still running around screaming trying to get the snow out of his shirt. “Bloody hell that’s cold!”

Having received the message loud and clear from Canada, America prepared an attack as well. Then, with a scream, both nations ran down the hill at Britain, pelting him with snow balls as they went.  
“Take that, you old fart!” Alfred cried. He and his brother teamed up quite well, and in only second flat, poor Arthur was drenched in snow.  
“Hahahaha!” America laughed.  
Germany and Italy would have gotten involved, but when America looked back to ask them if they wanted to help bury Britain, he found them completely caught up in each other’s arms, embracing. Cheeks flushed, and their attention only on each other, Germany leaned in for a kiss. It was too sweet of a scene to disturb, so even America in all his rudeness decided not to shout out to them.  
“Well, we lost the lovebirds. Come on Gil, Matt! It’s just us! Bury Britain!” And with the command given, Alfred immediately began to pile snow on top of the fallen older country. “Bwahaha! Come on France! I might not even object to you helping this time!” 

Gilbert was busy chasing down his old friend who was dashing around the yard laughing, “Comez back Franziz!” He was throwing his whole arsenal of snowballs at his old friend.  
Britain’s eyes widened with shock.  
“What the bloody hell are you two doing?” He cried as Matthew fell to his knees by Britain and then started to drop armfuls of snow on his father.  
“Come on Arthur! You’re not that ancient!”  
“St-stop that!” Britain cried and tried to get up, but Matthew flung himself on top of his father keeping him pinned, “Alfred! More snow!”  
“America! Don’t you dare!” Britain cried.  
Canada laughed at Britain’s request.  
“Really Arthur? You expect him to listen?”  
“G-good point! Seriously though America! Don’t!!” Britain looked to his son eyes wide.

And in hearing Britain’s demands of ‘don’t’ America was automatically inclined to ‘do.’ He’d always been that way, and had always instinctively gone against authority. As such, Britain had only sealed his fate by objecting. Eyes filled with delighted mischief, he approached Arthur.  
“Heh heh heh…” he chuckled. Bowing down to the ground, he spread out his arms, then he simply pushed his entire body forward, powered by his legs and managed to collect a huge mound of snow as he moved along the ground. Reaching his victim, he then simply pushed it up on top of him, careful to allow Canada a chance to get out of the way before he buried his father in a mountain of snow.  
“Ahahaha! Whaddaya gunna do about it now Arthur! Hahaha!” Completely buried except for his head, Britain couldn’t move. But America wasn’t done. He proceeded to climb up on top of him, then sat on his chest. “Yes! Victory is ours! Come on Matt! Let’s jump up and down on him!”  
Matthew laughed at his brother, but he didn’t join him, “Isn’t that going too far, Alfred?” The more sensitive of the two nations looked down at Britain. Truly, Britain looked somewhere between shock, horror, and anger. The fun continued on and Alfred left to go throw more snowballs at France and Prussia.  
Eventually, Matthew started to dig out the older nation and Alfred came over to help,  
“Come on Britain. Let’s get you warmed up.”  
Alfred helped un-bury the older nation then called out to everyone, “Come on guys. I’ll start the hot chocolate!”  
With that the three headed back into Alfred's house ahead of the other nations.


	14. I Love Feliciano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The GerIta Chapter

Chapter 14  
I Love Feliciano

The Christmas party had been more wonderful than Germany ever could have imagined. And as he, Prussia and Italy rode home on an airplane the next morning, he couldn’t help but to think it might be a good idea to start going every year. Looking over at his brother and boyfriend, he found both fast asleep against their seats. He smiled to himself. They had partied hard and had exhausted themselves. And in gazing at his loved ones, he couldn’t help but to become filled with warmth. He decided that he had a great family.   
After the plane landed, they awaited their luggage. Germany yelled at Italy that no, he couldn’t ride the baggage claim carousel. Then Prussia pushed the smaller country onto it anyway. Then Germany had to yell at Prussia. But after pulling Italy off the carousel and claiming their bags, the three called for a cab and headed back to Germany’s house. It was now getting to be later in the evening, and as they headed home, Germany watched the sun set from the passenger’s window of the cab.   
His country was more beautiful than he remembered. And with it being Christmas day, that spirit he’d felt in America only followed him all the way through Germany’s land. No one was out, since everyone was home with their families. It gave the streets a surreal quality as they passed under strands of Christmas lights.   
Once they arrived home, Germany helped Italy with the luggage. Bringing it into their room (for they had been sharing a room for quite a long time) they popped open the case and began to unpack. Germany busied himself in his bag while Feliciano busied himself in his own.  
But this only lasted a short while. When Germany reached into his case to start pulling out one of his many ties, a second pair of hands came to join him. Italy’s hands, as always, seemed very petite to him, and as they brushed up against his skin, he couldn’t help but to recognize how soft they were.  
“Let me a-help you,” he said as he took one of the ties. “I know you-a-like to put these away in-a-certain order. It’ll take you just-a-forever if I don’t help.”   
Germany felt his face start to grow warm as he watched Feliciano turn toward the closet with one of his many ties. The brunette knew where it went, and he knew the order he hung them in. They’d been together so long in fact; that Germany was sure that Italy simply knew everything there was to know about him. Even trivial things, like the order in which he liked to hang his ties up in his closet.  
Ludwig watched him silently for a few seconds as Feliciano smiled, then started to hum a little song as he carefully placed the tie on the tie rack in the exact way Ludwig liked. Then, grinning as always, he came back toward the suitcase. But when he reached it, instead of reaching back in, he looked up to Germany’s face.  
“You stopped unpacking,” he observed. And then, in gazing at Ludwig’s face, the smaller of the countries noticed the pinkish coloring to his cheeks, and that certain expression he wore. His mouth may have been set, and his jaw unmoving, but his blue eyes always told a much bigger story than the rest of his face. And Feliciano could read it as easily as a book.  
“Oh!” He quickly exclaimed, his own face starting to grow warm at the sudden realization of what it was Germany was thinking about. But before Italy had a chance to really assess his partner, to see in his face if he just wanted another chance to make-out, or if he perhaps wanted more, Germany moved in.  
Throwing his arms around his partner, he swept Feliciano up and into his strong embrace causing the smaller nation to let out a quickened gasp of exhilaration. Italy’s brown eyes grew large as he delved into Germany’s expression. He could see that he was serious.   
“Ludwig…” But before he could say another word, Ludwig leaned in. Keeping Italy supported in his sturdy arms, he tenderly caressed his lips against Italy’s. And as their breath intermingled, their skin brushing up against one another’s, Feliciano found his heart had picked up pace. It began to pound in his chest, excitement and emotion filling him almost to a point of bursting.   
At first he didn’t want to believe it was happening. They’d done this before after all, and it never was finished. He didn’t want to let himself down by believing in it. But then, Germany hoisted him up with ease, keeping a firm hold on him. And then, gently, he laid him back, down against the bed covers, in between the two opened suitcases.   
Feliciano stared up at his love, his brown eyes only growing wider as they continued. There Ludwig was, leaning over him, on top of the bed with him. And his face was a brilliant crimson, and his breathing had become quite hot and heavy as he gazed down at his partner.   
Reaching out to his side, Germany grabbed a hold of one of the half-empty suitcases. With no effort at all, he pushed it down and off of the bed and onto the floor. With a loud clatter, the suitcase and all of its remaining belonging scattered across the carpeted floor of the bedroom. Italy let out a surprised gasp. And he watched in awe as Germany reached out to the second suitcase and then did the same exact thing.   
Italy knew then, that Germany was as serious as he was ever going to be. And when he looked back up into his face, he saw a pair of cool, steady eyes. It was different from the face of uncertainty and fear that he’d seen before. He knew then, that this was real, and that it was happening.  
“Ludwig…” he whispered. Leaning down, Germany began to kiss his partner all over again. One of his hands slid up and into his soft, brunette, locks, while the other slid behind his back in order to support him once more. And as Italy lifted his own hands, he couldn’t help but to be completely excited about the feel of his partner’s hardened muscles that moved in his well-built back. And as he kissed him back, he already found Ludwig’s tender lips had become more eager, a bit more forceful.   
This is happening! This is real! And there was no denying it as Ludwig pressed a hot mouth against the base of his ear.   
Italy let out a moan, and before he knew it, both men had reached for each other’s clothes in order to start removing the obstacles in their way.   
Tonight, they would finally be together as one.

The newly consummated couple had fallen asleep in each other’s arms that evening. And due to their exhaustion, they’d slept all through the night. In the morning, Germany slowly awoke to find his partner snuggled perfectly in between his arms. The sun came in through the window, playing across his sweet face as he slept, illuminating his brunette hair.   
Germany couldn’t help himself. He smiled. Something he’d been doing a lot more of lately. Reaching out, he casually played with the curly lock of hair that always seemed to be out of place on Italy’s head. Both men still naked, he was also very much enjoying the feel of Italy’s body against his own.   
Leaning in, he kissed him gently. It caused Italy to stir, and gradually, his deep brown eyes fluttered open. He blinked sleepily for a moment, but as soon as his gaze focused on Ludwig’s face, his usual smile spread over his cheeks. Immediately he began to giggle. And seeing him laugh, only made Germany’s smile wider.  
“Vhat’s so funny lieben?“ (love) Italy giggled again, then reached out and began smoothing Germany’s pale blonde hair.  
“Your hair, ve. I’ve never-a-seen it so out of place.” Germany’s grin only grew, but he had nothing to say about it. Instead, he was content to just lay under the covers with his boyfriend, happy to wake up slowly, and gradually. It was such a peaceful moment; so quiet, with the birds singing just outside his window.   
Vhat a perfect mornink.

That peaceful morning may have lasted forever; maybe not forever, but a while longer anyway. If only a disheveled Prussia hadn’t barged into the room slamming open the door as he walked in. A grin encompassed his whole face as he stared down at the two nations, cozy underneath the sheets.  
“Zwell good morningk you two.” The smirk on his face only grew as he stood at the foot of the bed. He leaned forward placing his palms on the bed and stared at his family.  
“Ksekseksekse. Good morning, West, Italy! I heardz your fun escapades all the way in my room last night!” His red eyes squinted closed as he hopped onto the end of the bed and sat on his knees. His grin never faltered as he took his seat, “Zo the awezome me haz totally, awezomelly decided to let you two sleep in thiz morning! I juz wanted to checkz on my little bruder doh” He snickered a bit as he looked across the bed and at Germany, “How’z it going West. You have fun?”

Germany let out a start as his bedroom door was ruthlessly flung open.  
“Vhat da-!” And then his brother was sitting at the foot of his bed, grinning wickedly at the naked couple, teasing and mocking him, as usual. Sitting up, Germany grabbed at the blankets, making sure that they were tightly around his waist. Then he grabbed the blankets around Italy and made sure they were tucked in tightly around his small form. Once he was sure they were covered he turned, glaring at his older brother, his entire face a brilliant crimson.  
“Don’t you ‘ave any common decency at all? Vhat zee hell do you zink you’re doink in my bedroom? Especially if you knew dat Feliciano unt I are busy!” But, much to Germany’s amazement, the smaller country started giggling at his side. Gripping the edges of the sheets up by his delighted eyes where Germany had put them in order to cover him, he chuckled merrily. Germany’s left eye twitched.  
“You’re enjoyink zee attention…aren’t you?” He mumbled. Italy nodded, his face shining like the sun that came streaming in through the window. Germany sighed heavily. Everyone was crazy except for him…as usual. It was a normal day. 

Prussia waved his brother’s protests off.  
“Thatz no way to treat your totally awezome bigz bruder who had to suffer through a night of no zleep becauze of your loud escapades? You were alwayz a bit too modest, bruder. I’m happy thiz happened. Wunderbar. Which remindz me. I didn’t come in herez to get on your nervez, bruder. I will probably be going back to Birdie’s in a week or zo. We zhould enjoy dhis time.” He raised his pointer finger as if recalling something then hopped back off the bed. He walked out of the room and came strolling back in a second later. A silver tray in his hand.  
“It’s nowhere nearz az good az that arshlock Austria’s cooking, but I thought what the hell.” He walked to his brother’s side and handed him the silver platter of eggs and potatoes, “I have juice too. I’ll go get it.” He turned walking away from the couple and a few minutes later came strolling back in with milk and orange juice. 

Germany was sitting in something close to shock as he held the silver tray on top of his knees. Had Gilbert really made them breakfast? Had he really taken the time to cook and then bring it into his and Italy’s bedroom? Was this…some sort of congratulatory thing?  
Ludwig looked to his older brother. A lot of the time he was irresponsible, and he was always loud and obnoxious. Worst of all, was that Ludwig never really felt like he treated him right. He was always picking on him, or teasing him. But…he could see that underneath his ruddy exterior…he really did care.   
Germany smiled softly at his big brother. A simple gesture like this one went a long way. And it made him feel very accepted.  
“Maybe…you’re not such a terrible big bruder after all,” he said casually. Italy, having seen the food, of course sat up in bed. Immediately he reached for a plate. 

After breakfast, Prussia left in order to let the pair get dressed. And once fully clothed, they headed out of the bedroom and toward the living room. Germany started to walk Italy toward the front door. Even though it was the day after Christmas, Italy still had to go travel to have a meeting with his boss back in Italy about some matter.   
“I’ll only be-a gone for a day,” he said to his counterpart as he started putting on his boots. “It’s an important meeting, but it’s-a-already mostly resolved. I’ll-a-be-a-home by tomorrow afternoon.” After his boots were on, he stood back up, facing Ludwig, and when he did, his cheeks suddenly grew pink as he giggled once more. Germany smiled in return.  
“You can’t shtop laughink, can you?” Italy quickly shook his head, his curly piece of out of place hair swaying back and forth.   
“I’m just-a-so happy!” Germany reached out for him, taking his shoulders in his strong hands. Then he leaned in and kissed his forehead.  
“Good.” Pulling back, he then reached out, grabbing a scarf for the smaller nation. “It’s cold out, stay warm.” Still giggling, Italy took the offered cloth and began bundling up.   
“When I-a-come back, we should celebrate some-a-more. Ve! Let me-a-make you dinner?” Germany nodded. And in looking at his partner, he couldn’t ever remember being more content. For the first time in a long time, he forgot to be wary about the dangers of the world around them, and he forgot to expect the worst out of every situation. He forgot to worry about every little thing. He forgot to ready himself for disaster. Instead, he leaned in a second time, planting another kiss on the little countries forehead.  
“Ich liebe dich, Feliciano.” (I love you.) Italy giggled all over again. Then stood up on his tippy-toes and returned Ludwig’s kiss on his jaw line, since it was the only place he could reach.   
“Ti amo, Ludwig.” (I love you.) Then he turned and headed for the door. Opening it up, he let in the chilly December air and the light of the day beyond. “I’ll-a-see you tomorrow! I can’t-a-wait! Ve!” And then he closed the door behind him, leaving Ludwig alone to wait. 

Prussia sat on the couch grinning his brother’s way as Germany eventually came walking back into the living room. Once his brother sat down he reached out punching him gently in the shoulder. That grin of approval still on his face.  
“I am zure he willz be back before you know it.”

The day passed uneventful for the two nations. Prussia had a good time picking on his little brother while he was at his house. He had started spending more and more time at Canada’s, and he’d missed Ludwig more than he thought he would have. Prussia left his brother’s house in the evening to go acquire food for dinner and more beer. The older brother hardly remembered the last time Italy had been gone for the night, and he wasn’t going to pass up drinking time with his brother.


	15. Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happens to Italy. How will the Germanic brother's respond?  
> When the past come back to haunt him can Prussia maintain his composure or will the horrors of years long passed be his undoing?

Chapter 15  
Russia

 

Meanwhile in a boot shaped country not so far away. Italy’s meeting had wrapped up for the day. There would be a follow up meeting in the morning, but Italy found he had some spare time until then. As the Italian nation sat in his home, alone, counting down the seconds until he could get back to Germany a strong, loud knock came from his front door. Italy felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest. He hoped it was Germany. The curious Italian opened his front door without hesitation to find Russia smiling at him.   
Ivan was glad he’d found out about Italy’s meeting. Although he didn’t have friends he had a wide network of intel from those under him. The information on other nation personas that traveled across his desk each day was astounding. The knowledge Italy was alone had given Ivan a wonderful idea, and he had acted on it. He was even happier when he’d learned Germany wasn’t present. Although Germany played a vital role in his plans, Russia didn’t want to take on the fierce nation directly if he didn’t have to. Not that he couldn’t handle such an encounter, but it would cause more trouble than he wanted to deal with. As things were, he could get what he wanted without much of a hassle. He’d heard that the Germanic family was cozying up to his number one enemy. He knew that Prussia was spending much of his days at Canada’s house. It was hard to keep a secret in the current day and time, but his original question about America’s change of attitude towards Canada had never been answered. It made America’s new attitude all the more curious, and Russia didn’t like to be in the dark on such information. He wanted answers, and he was tired of waiting. He had thought of approaching the other ice nation directly, but Canada was avoiding him. America was tight lipped, so he had to come up with an alternate strategy. It would be hard to get to the North American twins. He wasn’t necessarily welcome in either nation, and there could be repercussions for being too close to America’s home. It was well known they didn’t get along. He had to figure out a way to get his enemies to his house. If they came to his home then they would be pawns in his game, and that was why he had come. Italy was only a means to an end. Russia was aware of the affection Prussia had shown to Canada that day in the stairwell. He had no idea how deep their affinity was, but he had found a way to gain access to Prussia. He was here to complete step one in his plan.  
Step one all depended on how much Germany really cared for Italy. Russia along with the rest of the world always assumed Germany liked the Italian a lot more than he ever let show in public, but even if the German didn’t care at all Russia would still have a new friend at his home. He always liked that.  
Russia smiled. His purple eyes squinting shut as he waited on the doorstep in the snow.   
“Comrade! Hello. Merry Christmas.”

Blinking in confusion, Italy stood at his door, Looking up at the larger country, Italy had to wonder why Russia was at his house.   
“Merry Christmas Russia,” he greeted, almost automatically. “Have-a-you come to visit? How did you know I wouldn’t be at-a-Germany’s house?”

Russia continued to smile at the little country.  
“I found out through very special friends.” Russia reached out and slapped his very large and cold hand onto Italy’s shoulder. He wasn’t hurting the smaller country, but it was quite obvious Russia wasn’t going to let him go either, “Hey comrade. I came to ask you a favor, da? I need you to come to my house for a few days. So I came to get you. We can call Germany on the way back to my home and let him know where you are going so he doesn’t worry, da? We are having a big Christmas party there.”

Italy was the type of country to believe almost anything he was told. As such, he believed the obvious lie straight out. All the same, he would have never gone to anyone’s house without Germany by his side. He smiled up at the larger country.  
“Another Christmas Party! Ve! Germany and I are-a-so popular this year! But-a…I can’t possibly go without him.” But then his eyes lit up with an idea. “But hey! I think-a-he’s here somewhere!” He smiled brightly. Cutely. Adorably.   
“Let me go-a-call him, and we can all go together!” Italy then turned and went to walk away from Russia. 

Russia’s smile never faltered, and as Italy walked away Russia fell into step behind him entering the other nation’s home. He was glad that Italy was dense. It made this all the easier.   
“You are right comrade. We wouldn’t want him to worry.”  
He walked in step behind the Italian and without another word Russia reached underneat his coat. With a well-placed hit Russia brought his pipe down on the back of Italy’s head. He watched the smaller brunette nation fall out into the floor unconscious.  
“Sorry comrade. I lied. Germany isn’t invited, yet.” He leaned down and picked Italy up throwing the smaller nation over his shoulder. He walked away from Italy’s house and never looked back.   
When Italy finally started to come around they were already on a private jet. Presumably on their way back to Russia’s house. The small boot nation was seated beside Russia who sat knitting in his seat. He stopped knitting as Italy started to move,  
“Oh good. You are starting to come around, da? Comrade can I see your phone? I have a call I need to make.”

Italy woke up with a groan. His head was pounding. Every time his heart beat, it sent a pulse of pain through his skull.   
“U…ugh…” His tired eyes slowly fluttered open. Lifting an unsteady hand, he felt the bump on the back of his head. It stung. “Ohi…” (ouch). Lowering it, he lifted his head. Blinking in confusion, he found himself on a private airplane. No one else was in the cabin with them. It was only Russia and himself.  
As Russia spoke to him, and as he started to come around, Italy put together the pieces of what had taken place. His dark brown eyes slowly widened as he understood just exactly what had happened to him.   
He-a hit me over the head, he thought in sudden fear. I…I’m being kidnapped? Feliciano stiffened in his seat. Quickly he looked around. He wasn’t tied to his chair or anything like that…but…they were on an airplane. There was simply nowhere to go. He was trapped. Realizing this, he didn’t get up, or run around in a panic. There would be no purpose. Instead, he gripped the arm rests with his hands, his knuckles turning white as he focused on Russia’s smiling face.  
“Why? You…you’re-a-kidnapping me? Why?” 

“Don’t worry, Comrade.” Russia said in a friendly voice as he held out his hand for the phone, “You are a means to an end. Don’t cause me any problems, and you will be fine. I need to ask Germany a quick question.” The outstretched hand moved closer to Italy then.  
“I think if anyone can get Prussia to come back to my home again it would be a plea from his little brother. I have seen that Prussia does almost anything to protect his little brother. Like when he lived with me and made sure I stayed away from Germany all those 29 years. So I think that if Germany asks his brother to come to my house now in exchange for you that Prussia will listen. He will come. If Prussia refuses I will let Germany know that he can FedEx Prussia to my home. As long as Prussia comes I do not care how he gets there. I have a question to ask my old comrade.  
I have seen him with Canada, and I want to know if Canada is sick, da? America had been acting strangely lately. Though it is not straight forward I will get results. Canada and America are not talking to me right now, so I have to make it impossible for them to refuse. It is a good idea, da? In the end I guess it also depends on how much Germany likes you. I think he will ask his brother to do this in exchange for you.”   
Russia shrugged his shoulder in an unknowing way. He couldn’t predict what the German would do, but he would know soon enough, “We shall see soon enough. Can I have your phone, please? I won’t ask nicely again, comrade.”

It was then that Italy got really scared. He wanted to ask why on earth Russia wanted Prussia back at his house…but he was far too frightened to risk making him angry. Even if Italy was naïve, and even if Russia did say he wouldn’t harm him…Feliciano understood the situation he was in. If Russia wanted to make Germany listen…Italy imagined he would indeed hurt him. And if he did that…Italy knew Germany would do whatever Russia asked of him.  
Italy, hands starting to shake a bit, reached into his pocket, retrieving his cell phone. But then, just as he was about to hand it over to Russia, he suddenly realized what was about to take place.   
He’s-a going to call Ludwig…and he’s-a going to tell him he has me… Italy’s fear very quickly turned into grief, even before the phone call was ever made. He knew what that would do to his boyfriend. His wonderful, loving boyfriend, who had needed over a hundred years to open up to him, to allow someone close to him. His endearing boyfriend, who may have appeared rough and tough on the outside, but was in fact easily hurt, and insecure a lot of the time.   
It was only-a-last night that he finally let his-a-guard down and allowed himself to love me… Italy stared at his phone, hesitant to give it to the enemy. This…this will ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for. All the reassurance I’ve been giving him all this time, all of the encouragement that said it would be ok to get close to me… His face tensed, and for once in his life, he not only was missing his usual smile, but instead wore a tragic frown.  
This will destroy him…  
And quite suddenly, the little countries eyes had filled with tears. He simply didn’t know what to do. Should I smash the phone? Russia will only use a different one once we land. And if I smash it…he might hit me…Then Ludwig would never get over his guilt.   
Knowing there was very little he could do to stop any of this, he finally held out a shaking hand, holding the phone out to his captive, knowing full well that Russia was about to break Ludwig’s heart. 

Back at the German’s house, the drinking contest was still ongoing. It was rare that the two Germanic brothers were alone and rarer still were the times when Prussia and Germany weren’t bickering amongst themselves. They had lived together for so long that they were bound to get on each other’s nerves, but the time they’d spent apart had been good for them. It made their time together seem more important.  
“You watch zis Ludwig. I willz zhow you how itz done.”   
Prussia raised the cup to his lips just as the phone rang. He didn’t pause as Germany took a momentary break. Germany saw his boyfriend’s number displayed on his cell phone’s screen. Excited, his cheeks warm from alcohol, Germany picked up his phone.  
“Feliciano! Guten -!” (Good.) He was in the middle of his greeting when he heard the Italian nation sniffling in the background. His voice caught in his throat. Russia finally spoke,  
“Privet comrade. It seems I found something that belongs to you, da?”

Germany’s good mood vanished as quickly as a gust of wind. Almost immediately, he sobered up from sheer adrenaline. His smile slipped from his face. His heart immediately began to pound. Vhy vould Russia ‘ave Italy’s phone? He wondered. And even in his inebriated state, fear threatened to overtake him. His mind immediately took him back to the World Meeting. He would never forget what Canada looked like, sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs…his face bleeding. Germany still remembered America’s horrified face.   
Italy…Italy is with Russia?   
He struggled to control himself. Perhaps there was nothing to panic about. Perhaps he was just being paranoid. He knew he could be like that. Feliciano was always telling him that he worried too much over things. Maybe Italy ran into the other country and perhaps Italy had gotten lost somewhere.   
In his own country? His common sense argued. All the same. He didn’t want to believe anything horrible had happened. Not yet. All Russia had said, was that he found something that belonged to him. Maybe he was just talking about Italy’s phone. Perhaps he’d dropped it somewhere. He was always losing things after all. He wasn’t very organized.  
“Vhy do you ‘ave Italy’s phone?” He questioned calmly. 

Russia looked over at the smaller country sitting next to him. He reached out placing his hand on Italy’s head and held onto the smaller country.  
“Italy is coming to visit me for a little while. He is staying until I get something I want. You can have him back when this is over. Just answer my questions honestly, and he will be fine. Is Prussia with you or is he with Canada?”  
Russia got to the point quick. And there it was. The thing Germany was terrified of hearing. He swore to God his heart stopped beating in his chest. His fingers and toes suddenly went cold. His chest constricted and quite suddenly he couldn’t breathe.   
Russia was saying he had Italy. He was saying he’d kidnapped him. He was saying…he’d never see him again…unless he did something for him.   
Meanwhile in Germany’s home, Prussia was unaware of his brother’s plight because he was chugging his beer. He had his eyes squeezed shut as his head stayed tilted back.

Germany couldn’t move. He also couldn’t seem to feel his legs. His mind wanted to go back to that awful day at the world meeting. He saw Canada again, clutching his face at the bottom of those stairs. And quite suddenly…it was easy to see Italy in his place.   
He took in a sharp intake of air, sucking it in through his teeth. His body tensed. He didn’t even look at Prussia, being far too absorbed in his conversation to move. But Prussia would figure things out soon enough.   
“…p…put…put Italy on,” he said suddenly. “So I know you ‘ave him. So I know dis isn’t some sort of sick joke.” 

Russia stared at Italy his smile growing even larger.  
“He wants to know you’re with me comrade.” The hand he had on top of Italy’s head twitched slightly. Russia suddenly applied a very firm pressure to Italy’s head until the brunette nation cried out loud enough for Ludwig to hear. Then Russia asked again.  
“Where is Prussia?”

Prussia had lowered his cup when he heard what his brother had said. He stared across the table at his brother and a moment later he had stood walking to Ludwig’s side. He could tell Germany was paling with every second. Prussia reached out for the phone in Germany’s hand which seemed to be the source of his distress,  
“Who the hell iz that?”

Germany flinched as if struck the moment he heard Italy cry out. His face tensed and his expression crumpled. He felt his body go numb from the shock. Surely this wasn’t real. This couldn’t possibly be happening. They’d just made love. They were so happy together!   
“Stoppen!” He cried suddenly, his breathing suddenly very quick and very panicked. His face paled, and he became as white as a ghost.   
“Pr…Prussia’s right ‘ere, vith me. Just don’t…don’t…” 

Feliciano could hear Germany’s voice on the other end of the phone. He could hear his complete fear. His heart twisted in his chest. He hated it. He hated hearing him so upset. Suddenly, Italy began to struggle, trying to pull out of Russia’s grasp.  
“Let-a-go of me! I hate you! You’re-a-horrible person!” 

Russia’s smile faltered as one of the easiest going nations in the world said such a thing to him.  
“He seems to be panicking, da. I will let that go for now and not break his face.” Russia’s smile came back to life once more, “This is very simple. It has nothing to do with you or Italy. This is a means to another end. Tell comrade Italy to stay calm, and I promise he will come back to you, ok? He will have a pleasant stay.  
Your brother is the one I have business with. I didn’t think he would come see me unless…. He had a good reason. He still doesn’t like me, da? I need you to tell him to come to my home right away, da? He will listen to you.”   
There was a shuffling on the other end of the phone as Russia handed the phone over to Italy. He also released him and went back to knitting while Italy conversed with Germany.

At the house, Prussia continued to stare down at his brother in shock. Germany hadn’t handed over the phone, and he was left piecing everything together,  
“Bruder. Vhat ze hell is goingk on?”

Germany simply couldn’t answer Gilbert. He couldn’t tear himself away from the phone, not even to glance his way. Starting to shake, he pressed the receiver into his ear, desperate to hear Italy’s voice.  
“Feliciano?”   
On the other end, Italy took his phone and took his release. Although he couldn’t go far, he wanted to get as far away from Russia as possible. He ran to the other side of the small cabin. Still in plain sight and earshot, he knew Russia would see and hear everything. But it didn’t matter…he had to calm Ludwig down, or he might actually have a heart attack.   
“Si, I’m-a-right here Ludwig. I…I’m fine. Please, don’t-a-worry, ve?”   
Germany let out a huge rush of air, relieved at finally getting to hear Italy’s voice. He actually did sound ok. He sounded scared…but not hurt.   
“Oh Gott sei Dank!” (Oh thank God.) The larger nation put a hand to his chest to try and steady his racing heart. Sweating now, bullets of the liquid rolling down his face, he clutched the phone. “Feliciano…are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”  
“No. I’m-a-ok, really. He didn’t-a-hurt me. I’m more-a-worried about you.”  
“I’m fine. You just…you just need to be safe. Please…please promise me you’ll behave? Just…just do vhat he asks you to ok? Sit still, be quiet…” But at that Italy suddenly started to laugh. Apparently, even in a hostage situation he could find joy in things.  
“Be-a-quiet? How-a-do I do that?” But Feliciano’s smile faltered, then slipped from his face when he didn’t hear Ludwig laugh in return. He was dreadfully silent on the other end.  
“Please…please Feliciano dis is so incredibly important…please promise me you’ll just sit still unt be quiet…” Italy’s joy vanished when he heard Germany’s tones. He was far too worried, far too upset to laugh with him. Italy knew then…that there was little he could do to reassure him other than to simply agree.  
“…Si. Ok Ludwig. I’ll-a-behave…”   
“Good…” Silence fell between them again. Then, unexpectantly, Germany said, “Now put Russia back on. I ‘ave somethink to say to him.” Italy wasn’t sure about that, but he nodded anyway.  
“I…uh…ok.” He lifted his head, glancing back over to the crazy country. Turning to look at him, his heart started to pick up pace again. “Ludwig?” Italy whispered into the phone.  
“Hm?”  
“I love you…” Silence reached his ears. And then, emerging out from the deep depths of it…Feliciano thought he heard Germany start to cry.  
“I love you too,” He said, his voice somehow steady, even thought Italy knew the truth. Italy lifted his eyes to Russia. And as he looked to him, he had a sudden thought that he’d never had before in all his life. He thought, that he would never forgive him for hurting Germany.   
But he kept the thought to himself, then walked back over to the larger nation. Casually, he held the phone back out to him.   
“Germany wanted to say something-a-to you, ve…” he mumbled. 

Russia smiled up at his prisoner as he once more paused in his knitting,  
“Done already?” He reached out taking the phone from Italy. He placed the phone back up to his ear and cheerfully asked, “You are done talking already? So you will do me this favor, right? Then I will send Italy home.”  
Prussia had been reduced to simply sitting beside his brother and listening to half of a conversation, but his stomach was sinking with the words Germany spoke. He understood that Italy was with Russia for some reason, and he knew that was a bad place to be.  
Prussia heard Ivan’s voice, and he watched as Germany’s entire demeanor changed suddenly and drastically. Tears still streaming down his cheeks he began to tremble with rage. Face red, and gritting his teeth he seethed into the phone.  
“I svear to Gott if you touch a single hair on his head I vill find you unt I vill kill you. I vill dedicate my entire life to huntink you down. Unt vhen I find you I vill mak you suffer in vays even your sick mind ‘asn’t imagined. Do ve understand each other? I vill get you vhat you vant. In return, you don’t fuckink touch him!” 

“Da Comrade!” Russia said cheerfully clapping his hands together, “Just get your brother to my house and you can have Italy back. Safe and sound!”   
There was a click. That was it. The line went dead.

Prussia sat by his brother’s side. There was nothing to say in a situation like this. Words wouldn’t help, so he did the only thing he could think of. He went to wrap both his arms around his brother’s shoulders and hold him close like he had done when Germany had been small. He had only heard Russia’s voice. He didn’t have the whole story. He had heard Germany mention and talk to Italy, and he understood Russia was demanding Germany do something for him. He took a deep breath then spoke,  
“Bruder? We will get Italy back. I Promize. What did Russia want from you?”

Ludwig sat silently and in shock, unmoving for several long, horrific seconds. He felt like he simply couldn’t breathe, or couldn’t go on existing. The conditions for getting Italy back…were very plain and simple: he’d have to trade his older brother for him. Germany had simply said that he would do it just to appease Russia, to keep Italy safe for the time being, but in all reality, he had no idea how he could possibly ever make such a choice.   
He loved Gilbert. He was his only family. He’d raised him as a child, all by himself. He’d told him bedtime stories, and had given him baths in the tub. He’d fed him and clothed him and had protected him from other countries back when he was small and weak.   
Germany would never forget the time he thought he’d been dead, the time Prussia had spent at Russia’s house…all just to keep him safe. It’s mein fault he’s not a country anymore… he thought woefully. He was just tryink to protect me back den…and he almost got himself killed.   
His heart beat even faster still, the pressure in his chest rising. He could scarcely think of it. Gilbert had already spent 29 years locked away in that hell hole. God only knew what Russia had done to him there. He never spoke about it…and Ludwig wasn’t ever fool enough to ask him. He knew that whatever had happened…had scarred him forever. And he almost hadn’t made it out alive.  
Ludwig knew he couldn’t send his brother back there. He couldn’t. Whatever Russia wanted from him, Ludwig didn’t want him to have it.  
But then…of course, he thought of the alternative. If Prussia didn’t go, then it would be Italy in his place. And when Germany thought about that, he wanted to scream.   
Russia had just promised not to hurt him…but for how long? How long did he have to send Prussia over there before Russia started getting frustrated? Ludwig wasn’t a fool. He knew damned well that if he didn’t send Gilbert over in a timely manner…that he’d be receiving another phone call. And that second phone call…would be filled with incentive to make him hurry up and choose Italy over Prussia.   
Russia would hurt his Feliciano. He had no doubt about it.  
My bruder…my boyfriend…   
His breathing picked up speed again, his heart pounding in his chest. Sweat ran down his temples as he quite suddenly began heaving in his air instead of breathing it.   
“Nein…nein…” He muttered. And then, without warning, he flew out of his seat. With a furious scream he grabbed onto the table that sat before him, beer mugs still on top of it. Adrenaline pumping, and alcohol in his system, it took him seemingly no effort at all to flip over, violently. He tossed it across the room and there was a huge CRASH as the glasses from earlier shattered to the floor. The table skidded to a halt just at the base of the couch, but Germany seemingly wasn’t done.   
Completely unable to control his emotions which had rocketed out of control, he then marched over to the next nearest thing he saw, which happened to be one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen which he and Gilbert had moved into the living room for their drinking contest. Grabbing a hold of it, and with another scream, he lifted it over his head and tossed it across the room. It smashed into the front window of the house, shattering it, then came to rest on the snowy ground outside.   
Still seemingly unable to get himself under control, but out of easy things to toss (all that was really left was the couch and the recliner, both of which were too heavy to lift) he went over to the nearest wall. The first thing he did was punch a giant hole in it, his knuckles cracking against the plaster. But still not satisfied, he started to punch it again. Then again and again, putting repeated holes in his wall until he eventually came across a wooden support beam. Then, with that in his way, he began to punch the same spot in the wall repeatedly, over and over. But the only thing that was getting damaged now was his fist. There was a loud CRACK each and every time he brought his fist down, and every time he brought it back for another blow, it was clear that there was more and more damage to his hand. After only the third punch, his knuckles were bleeding.   
Germany hardly seemed to notice. 

“Bruder! Germany! Ludwig!” Prussia had been yelling at his brother for the duration of his tirade. While Germany destroyed the objects in the house Prussia had let him go uninterrupted. He knew better than to get in his way as his brother lost all control. They could always replace the things in the house. When Germany started to attack the support beam of the house and continued to clearly injure himself Prussia couldn’t stand by.  
“Kleiner bruder! Stoppen!“ (little brother! Stop!) Prussia screamed as he ran up behind Germany and threw his arms around him with all the strength he had and held on tight. He forcefully tried to pull Germany away from the wall. Then he yelled at his little brother, “Sag mir, was Russland Sie tun will!” (Tell me what Russia wants you to do!) He held onto his brother tightly.

Finally, having been interrupted and forcefully pulled away from his self-destruction, he seemed to come out of it just a tad. But when he turned to gaze at his big brother, Prussia would be able to see how crazed he actually was. His blue eyes shivered in his skull as he looked at him. And as he stood, still gasping for breath, he suddenly seemed to just cave in on himself. Crumpling forward, he fell to his knees on top of the shattered glass on his floor.   
There he stayed, trying desperately to take in air, but seeming to fail at it. More tears entered his eyes, and soon those too fell to the glass covered floor.   
Prussia, getting to his knees in front of him, didn’t have the chance to ask him again. Ludwig reached out, wrapping his arms around his older brother, tightly, desperately. He clutched him to his chest, then allowed his tears to fall to Gilbert’s back.   
“Ru…Russia…Russia vants you…in exchange…for Feliciano…” And he just couldn’t take it anymore. After voicing the horrible truth of his choice, he collapsed into tears. 

A tremble raced its way up Prussia’s spine, for a moment he thought he might lose his composure. Then he quickly crushed the fear rising within in him. It would do no good to let that emotion show to his little brother, so he pulled himself together and sat tall. He knew what he had to do. He was the big brother after all. He had done this before, and he would always protect his little brother. Despite what the others thought of him, reckless and selfish, he had tried to right by his little brother. Prussia wrapped his arms around Germany and shoved on a smug face,  
“Kseksekse. West is that all? Then it’s easy, right? The awezome me will go right on over there. Once Italy iz gone I willz kickz Russia’s azz. I ztill owe him from the world conference anyway! Donz be ridiculouz! I thought it waz zomething really hard!”   
The words came out, but Prussia knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure in front of his brother forever. Oh how he hated that fucking place. He felt his hand start to shake behind Germany’s back and he felt his heartbeat start to pick up speed at the thought of going back. He would do anything to help his brother. To have his little brother smile again. Italy could do that. Prussia knew if something happened to him Italy would be able to make his brother smile again, it may take a while but one day.   
However, if something happened to Italy, Germany would never smile again. Prussia would never be able to heal that pain. He would do anything to keep suffering like that away from his little brother. Even walk right back into hell without a second word.   
Damn. He thought to himself.  
He looked to his hand. His hand had just healed. He’d just gotten the cast off a few weeks ago, if he punched Russia again he’d probably just break the damn appendage all over again. The worst part was knowing he probably couldn’t hurt the other nation. Somehow that seemed… so disappointing. Prussia sighed as he squeezed his brother tightly.  
“Hey. Donz worry West. I have been around a very long time. It’z the awezomenezz that keepz me going. I’ll be fine.” He roughed up his brother’s blonde hair. “I better get goingk. The zooner I get there the zafer Italy will be. I- I needz zome ztuff for the trip.”   
Prussia went to stand up then, pulling away from his brother. “You just relax. I’ll fix zis, Bruder.”   
He felt a sudden tremor spreading up his arm. He quickly shoved his shaking appendage behind his back, hoping Germany hadn’t seen, and knowing he couldn’t hide his fear out in the open he retreated to his room and let his fears out in private, away from his little brother. At least he wasn’t coughing up blood at the sight of Russia anymore. There was a positive. Once he was behind closed doors he couldn’t hide the tremor in his body. Still, he knew what had to be done. He was the older brother, and he wouldn’t let his fear show through. He had made his choice, and he would follow through.

For a long time, Germany didn’t move from his place on the floor. Even after Prussia left to go ‘pack.’ He just didn’t know what to do. There were only two important people in his life, and he couldn’t lose either one of them.   
Germany knew Prussia was scared. He didn’t have to see him shake to know it. He knew that Russia was a place where he had suffered immeasurably…and had almost died. He’d ceased being a nation there. And Ludwig just couldn’t send him back.   
But Feliciano…   
It was horrid. He would have given anything to get out of the predicament he was suddenly in. He would have given himself in either of their places in a heartbeat. But…he knew he was not what Russia wanted.   
After staying knelt on the floor for a good portion of an hour, he was finally able to gather himself. Standing up on shaking feet, he listened to the glass crunch under his boots. With the adrenaline wearing off…a sharp, dreadful pain pierced through his hand.  
“Autsch!” (ouch.) Lifting his hand, he took a look at it and was quite surprised at the damage. It was purple and swollen, much like Gilbert’s hand had once been. His knuckles were raw and bleeding, the skin on their edges gone.   
Germany was thankful Italy couldn’t see it…he’d be so upset with him. Heart aching, he turned away from his destroyed living room and instead went to seek out his older brother. He had to beg him not to go. Surely there was something else they could do!  
Moving down the hall, in a daze, and feeling almost as if he were in a surreal dream, he found Gilbert’s room. He knocked briefly with his uninjured hand, then pushed the door in.  
“Gil…” he muttered, and the damaged quality of his own voice startled him. Am I so hopeless without Feliciano? He wondered. But…he couldn’t dwell on it. If he thought of his sweet little Italy at all…he knew he’d lose it all over again.  
“Gil…dere…dere must be somzink else ve can do. Ve…ve should think about dis. Should ve call a meetink? I’m sure zee other countries vill help us. Italy…is a friend to everyone…unt…unt no one like’s Russia anyvay…” 

Prussia sat on the edge of the bed with his back to the door and his brother. In an attempt to suppress what he was feeling, and perhaps to keep his voice choked back, Gilbert had shoved his hand into his mouth and was currently biting into his flesh so hard that he was bleeding. The pain was keeping him grounded in reality and keeping him from falling into the deeper recesses of his mind. Where things he had pushed far, far away over two decades ago were threatening to come to the surface again at the mention of going back to Russia’s house.   
When he heard is brother’s voice he forced himself to pull himself back together. He sat up straight. He pulled his hand out of his mouth and hid it in front of him and out of his brother’s sight,  
“I’m sure unawezome and hiz gang willz help. I ztill don’t vant to leave Italy alone with Russia dat long. Zo you go to unawezome or Matthew, Matthew would probably lizen better. Go to Matthew. I will go protect Italy….   
I thought we had moved passed that premonition. I don’t know what happened in that alternate world. If I try to hurt Matthew. For whatever reason, you promise me you’ll end it. Pleaze.”  
Prussia reached down placing his uninjured hand over the self-inflicted wound. He pressed down and tried and stop the bleeding, but it wasn’t working. He let out a heavy sigh as he got up to walk towards the bathroom and grab a towel.

But Germany wasn’t going to let him get far. He hurried into the bedroom and followed Prussia into the bathroom where he was getting a towel. Ludwig went up to his big brother’s side. Once again he threw his arms around him, terrified of him leaving.  
“Maybe ve should vait! Let me call Amerika unt his friends. Maybe Britain vill think of somethink ve can do! I…you…you can’t go! Vhat if you don’t come back dis time? I…last time…last time…I thought you vere never comink back!” He managed to suppress his tears this time around, but it didn’t keep him from trembling. Back then…he thought he just wouldn’t make it. It had been his fault after all. And now…now it was happening all over again. It was his fault this was happening. And if Prussia went in there, and didn’t come out for another 29 years like last time…well…then it will have been Germany’s fault all over again. He would have made his brother suffer twice.   
“It’z just a phone call…vait just until I can call Britain. Please…” 

Prussia put his hands on the countertop of the sink and leaned against it heavily. He watched his blood slowly drip onto the smooth surface. Slowly his hands balled into fist on the cold countertop, and then they started to shake.  
“Listen Ludwig.”   
Prussia’s voice started to audibly break apart. He couldn’t hide it anymore. The trembling that had started in his hands traveled up his arms, and then down his body. It was infectious and spread until he was shaking in front of his little brother.  
“I have been alive a very long time, bruder. I don’t want to go back to Ruzzia’z. In fact I think a part of me would rather just die here peacefully and let you mail him my body.”  
Prussia swallowed hard trying to get himself under control.  
“I know I wasn’t the best big bruder. I was mean, short tempered, I picked on you a lot, and…. Heh… I guezz I waz really unawezome most of the time. As your brother and maybe as somewhat your vater (father) too. I don’t know if I have the right to say that, but still I did my best to raise you and protect you. I seem to fuck up a lot on the zecond one, but I tried-”   
Prussia’s mind wondered back to when Germany had been little. There were times when he thought of the little rug rat as the closest thing he’d ever have to a child. He had fought wars to protect his brother. He’d done all he could, but it never seemed to be enough to keep Germany from suffering. Prussia always seemed to fail at protecting him. Prussia quickly shook his head trying to clear his thoughts and get back to what he wanted to say,  
“I promise I have a point I am making, bruder.” Prussia let his shoulders fall as he leaned against the counter heavily, “I do know this one thing more than anything else, Ludwig. You need Italy. You need him more than you need me. He completez you. He healz you. I can’t fix you like he can. I’m trying to go now becauze if I ztay I don’t think I can offer to go back there again…. If I lose my nerve I think I’ll-”   
His trembling picked up for a second time. He lowered his head averting his red eyes as he felt moisture gather. He didn’t want to do this in front of his little brother, but the tears streamed from his eyes and rolled down his face and onto the counter. Prussia raised his bleeding hand back to his mouth and bit into it hard once again. The old memories he’d buried behind thick walls were threatening to drown him in despair once more.  
The self-mutilating act stopped his shaking and helped him focus on the present, not the past. It was something he'd once done as a prisoner to distract himself, but Germany had never seen him do it before. A moment later he pulled his bleeding and bruising hand back out of his mouth spitting blood out into the sink,   
“If you want to call Britain and the others, ok. But if I can’t keep myself vernünftig (sane), or in my cowardice I seem to change my mind about going to Russia's to protect Italy and you, you can make me go back there. Ok? I won’t be mad at you. No matter vhat I zay. Just knock me out and send me back. Don't let me look totally unawezome in front of everyone. Verstehst du? (Do you understand?) Versprich mir. (Promise me)”

Germany nodded. He was in so much shock and his head was swimming so fast he really couldn’t think much about anything. He would have probably have done almost anything Prussia suggested. He was just grateful that his brother agreed to at least let him make a phone call before he went running off to a suicide mission. Because that’s what it was. Gilbert didn’t heal. And he couldn’t take abuse anymore like the rest of them. If he went…Ludwig had a horrible feeling that he’d never see his brother again.  
Looking to him, he watched as he bit into his own flesh, the bright red of his blood dripping down his palm. Germany winced in agony, unable to take much more.  
“Stoppen Sie bitte…” (Stop, please.) Reaching out, he took Gilbert’s wrist in his uninjured hand. Gently, he pulled it away from his destructive teeth. “Ve can’t afford to be hurtink ourselves vhen ve ‘ave an enemy to face. If you need a distraction…ve can find you somethink else vhile I call Britain.” Keeping a firm grip on his brother, he started to pull him out of the bathroom. Then he pulled him out of the room. Moving down the hall, the pair then traversed the destroyed living room. Turning the corner, Germany steered his brother into the kitchen.   
“Make some food. Keep your mind occupied.” And as he released him, Ludwig grabbed the phone and his phone book. Flipping over to Britain’s page, he read the number to himself, then quickly punched it into the phone. Holding it up to his ear, all he could think about was Italy. He prayed to God that he wasn’t as frightened as he, himself currently felt. Germany was sure that there was no way to be more afraid without simply passing out from the shock of it all.  
“Come on Britain…you owe me vone…” he mumbled as the phone began to ring on the other end. He recalled that phone call he’d received about future America only a few months ago. It seemed that now their roles were reversed. 

Britain sat at his desk delving unhappily through the mound of paperwork he currently had to deal with. That was when his phone rang, again. He didn’t bother to look at the caller ID as he snatched the phone up.  
“America! I swear to God if you dial this number and hang up one more time I am going to fly over there and beat proper etiquette into that thick skull of yours! Do you understand me!”

“Uh…” Was Germany’s initial response. He wasn’t really in a good place, and therefore it was hard for him to recover. “Bri…Britain, dis is…dis is Germany…” he muttered. 

Britain was so startled to hear a voice that wasn’t America’s that he dropped the phone. Germany could hear it clatter as it hit the top of the desk. Papers fell in the background. Britain cried out,  
“Bloody Hell!”   
Then a moment later he picked the phone back up. He had his hand pinching the bridge of his nose as he composed himself. When he got the phone back to his ear he was a bit baffled.  
“Germany?”   
Germany had only spoken a few words, but Britain could tell he sounded strange,  
“What’s the matter bloke? You sound like you’ve seen a ghost.”   
Of course Germany was one of his allies against tragic future events so Britain had to ask, “Did anything happen?”

Germany felt his face tense. Another wave of emotion threatened to attack him. He struggled desperately not to think of Italy, but it was impossible, because…he had to explain himself to the older country, and the only way to do that, was to tell him exactly what had happened.   
“It…it’s Italy…” And just saying his name was almost too much to bear. His voice choked itself off. It took him several seconds to gather himself before he could even continue. “Russia…Russia’s taken Italy…” he managed the second time with a bit more poise, but all the same, it was not hard at all to hear the complete terror in the German’s voice.   
“He’s demandink that I send Prussia to him in exchange for Italy’s safe return…ve…don’t ‘ave a lot of time to waste. I vas…hoping you’d ‘ave some other option for me…” He tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “I can’t send my bruder back over dere…”

“Damn it.” Britain stood up at his desk, but his corded phone kept him tied to his desk. Maybe that was why everyone suggested he upgrade the archaic device.  
“France and I can be there soon. Don’t do anything yet. I’ll think of something on the way there. Maybe we can buy ourselves some more time. Russia will probably give you at least a day or so. I doubt Russia would think Prussia would just go back easily, so don’t panic just yet. We have a short amount of time.”   
Everyone knew the albino hated the nation. Surely, Russia would wait.  
“Ok. Can Prussia call Canada? Get Canada on his way there too. Canada can call America on his way over.   
If this is anything like the other timeline, we know Russia is ultimately after Canada to get at America. My guess is that Russia knows that Prussia and Canada are an item. He saw them at the world meeting. This is probably a bigger trap than what we can see right now. We need to be careful.   
Italy will be safe for a little while, ok? We’ll be there soon. I’m going to hang up now. Call me back on my cell phone if you need me.”   
It was a bit odd. The countries that were usually arguing seemed to be rallying around their friends in trouble. They weren’t going to abandon them. That was something Germany could take to heart.

“Ja…” He agreed. “See you soon…” And then they hung up. But of course, waiting an entire day made his stomach tie itself into knots. What if Russia wasn’t that patient? What if…what if…  
Ludwig started trembling all over again. He felt sick. The idea of Feliciano ever being hurt made him want to die.   
He’s too good for dis disgustink vorld ve live in… And he had always thought so. The artistic nation seemed oblivious to all the horrible things that happened around them every day. He didn’t seem affected by war, or famine, or depression the way other countries were. He just…smiled his way through. Laughed it all off. Found joy in all the little things that still shone through the darkness. He was full of love.   
Ludwig! He could still hear his voice, and the exact tones that he would use to call his name. He could see him wave at him to come over and look at one ridiculous thing or another. He’d smile at him with that adorable, criminally cute face. And most of all, probably because it was the last thing they’d done together…Ludwig could still feel his small, warm, body next to his in bed. And he could still smell that sweet scent of acrylic paint, and baking bread.  
Germany leaned heavily on the kitchen counters.   
“They’re on their vay…” he muttered. But even as he did, more sweat dripped down his face. He was still pale, and his shaking had grown worse. And as he struggled to regain himself, he instead felt a rush of blood travel to his skull.   
“Gilbert…” Ludwig groaned, his head starting to pound, heat building behind his eyes. “I don’t…feel so good…” His knees felt weak, and as his vision started to swim, he stumbled toward the kitchen table, hoping to find a chair to sit down in. But his chest hurt most of all. His heart pounded, and each time it did, it sent waves of agony through his limbs. It ached. And before he knew it, his vision swirled before him, and up became down and right became left. Unable to take in enough air, the world fell dark around him and he passed out, collapsing to the kitchen floor. 

“Ludwig!”   
Prussia cried out as his little brother fell to the floor. He ran to Germany’s side and fell to the floor next to his unconscious brother. He reached out rolling his brother onto his back. He tapped at Germany’s face, but the other nation didn’t wake, and Gilbert couldn’t blame Ludwig. It was early in the morning. They’d been up all night; plus, having all the alcohol, adrenaline, and terror mixing together in their bodies was taxing.   
Prussia reached out brushing his brother’s blonde hair out of his face. It had become quite disorganized in the last few hours. Suddenly with a task to focus on Prussia felt the traumatic memories of the past fading. He wouldn’t have wished for his brother to fall unconscious, but it gave him a very specific job to do which was something he needed. Gilbert reached out and carefully moved his arms underneath his taller brother. Then he tried to lift his brother,  
“Mein Gott, West! You must weigh as much as America!”   
Prussia struggled but managed to get Germany up off the floor. He dragged him back to the living room and sat his little brother on the couch. He tended to his brother’s injured hand. He cleaned and then bandaged the appendage. Even if it would be healed soon Prussia took time and great care wrapping the wound, next he dealt with his own injuries. Wrapping his bloody hand in gauze. After all injuries were dealt with Prussia brought his brother a cool rag for his head. It was simply for comfort, but he hoped it helped. The final task took Prussia to the hall closet. He pulled out a blanket and lay it over Germany.   
Once his brother was settled in Prussia swept the floor, clearing away the glass and making it safe to walk once more.   
Then he placed the dreaded call to his boyfriend. He explained the situation to Canada and left Matthew to fill in America. Once all nations were notified and everyone was on their way over Prussia walked back over to his brother. He sat on the floor next to Ludwig. Gilbert reached out with his good hand and gently took Ludwig’s uninjured hand in his own. He held onto his brother’s hand as tightly as he dared. He sat waiting and trying to plan the next move.


	16. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nations plan on getting Italy back, but it isn't a plan America wants.

Chapter 16  
The Deal

Britain and France had been knocking on the front door of Germany’s house for some time, but the two Germanic brothers had fallen into a deep unconsciousness. By the time Prussia became aware of the knocking it had already stopped. France had boosted Britain up and through Germany’s broken window and none to quietly the island nation came tumbling into the room and rolled to a stop on the floor.  
“Stupid Frog! You did not need to throw me that hard!” Britain chastised and climbed to his feet. He saw Prussia starting to stir and quickly addressed him, “We came as fast as we could-” He cut himself off as he looked around the room. It was like a war zone, and it had an eerie similarity to America’s home not so long ago, “America and Canada are on their way.”

Germany, thankfully, was doing a bit better after a bit of rest. But as he started to come around, it would become painfully apparent to Prussia that there was no way he was going to be like his old self. Stirring, his head still aching along with his heart, he automatically reached to his side, his hands groping for a partner that was no longer there. When he couldn’t find Italy, he groaned. Then his eyes started to flutter open.  
Blinking, he tried to adjust to the light around him, and the noise from strange voices in other languages. Rolling onto his back, he rubbed at his face as the pounding in his head increased. He felt wretched.  
“Vhat is all dat noise…” Taking his hands away from his face, he looked around himself. His living room was destroyed. And it hardly even resembled the room it had been only two days ago when he had seen Italy to the door for his meeting. In seeing the destruction, and in hearing new nation’s voices, everything came flooding back. For a few seconds, he didn’t move from his spot on the couch. He couldn’t. Not when he thought of Italy, and realized that he had spent an entire night locked up somewhere in Russia’s gigantic country, where no one would ever find him.  
Where would Russia have put him? In some dungeon cell? A prison? Certainly he wouldn’t have given him a nice room with a bed. And this was Russia they were talking about. Had Italy even been able to keep warm in the night? Or had he been forced to sleep on a stone cold floor? Had he been given any food? Would Russia starve him?  
That terrible ache in his chest remained, and in fact, seemed to get worse. But he knew he had to get up and move. Britain and France had arrived. And if he were to help Feliciano at all, he would have to pull himself together. And so, despite the pounding in his head and the pain in his heart, he forced himself to sit up.  
He ran a hand through his golden locks, but there was no point. His hair was a mess, and he wasn’t going to bother brushing it back that morning, or dressing in new clothes for that matter. For once, he didn’t care how he presented himself to others. His disheveled appearance wasn’t important. And quite frankly, he was a mess. Still pale, and having never gotten his color back, he gazed drearily at the two new arrivals.  
“Britain, France…thank you for comink…” he grumbled, his face more sour than any of them could remember. “Do ve have any sort of plan yet?” 

Britain had walked to the front door and ushered France inside. France had been assessing the damage to the house while Britain had been conversing with him, but they turned to stare at Germany when he spoke. The German persona looked wretched. France walked over to his albino friend. Britain on the other hand moved to stand beside Germany and was trying to reassure him,  
"Think nothing of it. I wouldn't leave an ally high and dry. We’ve both been thinking about a plan.”  
Germany wasn’t the only one who didn’t want Prussia anywhere near the ice nation. France remembered how his old friend had come back to them haggard and broken only a few decades ago. He really didn’t want to lose his friend to that again. Prussia stretched from his place on the floor. His body protested from the movement, and his spine popped loudly.  
“Mon Gott.” Prussia groaned as he twitched from the pain.  
Britain looked to Prussia, “Prussia, you should try calling Russia. Surely he wants you for some purpose if he went to all the trouble of taking Italy to get at you. He probably went after Italy because he knows you’re a hand full. I’m guessing Russia doesn’t know that your injuries don’t heal, and I’m also guessing he doesn’t know you’ve lost a lot of your strength since you ‘died’. I think if Russia knew those two facts about you, he’d have seen you as an easier target than this round about nonsense he is pulling. We need to find out the true goal of his plan.” Britain looked at all the faces in the room.  
“If Russia simply wants to cause you harm Prussia there is very little we can do. That being said we can follow you and get you back once we locate his whereabouts and get Italy. I’m sure he thinks you two are alone." Britain looked to both of the German brothers," Russia would have no reason to expect that myself, America, or Canada would be assisting you.”  
“What about me?” France looked over indignantly.  
Britain ignored France and continued, “If Russia does have an alternate plan though having you briefed about it here may save him time. If he really wants to use you to get at Matthew and Alfred like in the alternate timeline than maybe you can get him to divulge details to you over the phone. I would suggest doing anything you could to stall for more time.”

Ludwig just didn’t know how he felt about any of it. He supposed it was a much better plan than sending Prussia away. Anything was better than that. But all the same, he was afraid that if Gilbert simply called, and Russia then realized he wasn’t even on his way yet, then he might get angry.  
Germany glanced off and to the side, his once bright blue eyes becoming more and more hollow with every passing hour. What more could they do? He nodded absent mindedly, feeling really, that he had to agree. Britain was a fairly intelligent country. And what was more…Ludwig was sure that anyone’s frame of mind was better than his own at the moment. So he would trust their judgment. Still…the idea of Italy being stuck in that hell hole for another moment was almost too much.  
Germany remained silent. Letting the other countries talk things over. He would agree with most anything, as long as it didn’t put Gilbert or Feliciano in any obvious danger.  
And so, after another brief discussion, it was decided that the phone call was the best course of action for the time being. No one wanted to wait. So they decided to go ahead and do it even though America and Canada had not yet had a chance to arrive. They would fill the twins in once their flight landed.  
Sitting up on the couch, Germany handed his brother his cell phone. Flipping it open, Gilbert would find Italy’s number right at the top, marked as speed dial number one.  
Ludwig sat on the edge of the couch. In anticipation…he’d already broken out into a sweat.  
“Just get it over with…” he muttered. “Unt if you’re able…find out anythink about Italy…” 

Prussia gave a nod to his brother. He was pretty pissed about Italy being taken by his old enemy as well. The spunky, brunette nation had been a part of Germany’s life for over 100 years, and that had automatically made him part of Prussia’s. He’d know Italy even before Germany was born. Italy had always been cute. Prussia had to admit that at first the carefree nation had been quite a nuisance, but he was now a part of their family. Prussia found himself fond of the Italian. Italy knew how to pull off a prank much better than West any day. Prussia wouldn’t forgive Russia if he hurt the little country. Gilbert tensed a bit and waited for Russia to answer Italy’s cell phone.  
He didn’t expect Italy to be screaming in his ear as soon as the phone was picked up,  
“Dio Mios! Germania! Germania!” Italy yelled in that high pitched voice he used when he was excited/worried/himself. Prussia pulled the phone away from his ear. At least Italy sounded normal, and the next thing he yelled was clearly heard by everyone as Italy continued to shout, “He’s-a trying to-a-make me eat his-a horrible food! It’s-a so disgusting! No-a spices! Bland! Cheese-a-less! Pastaless! It’s-a awful!!”  
Prussia’s mouth twitched upward as he raised his hand to his face. He could tell that Russia hadn’t hurt the Italian nation and that made him feel a bit better. A laugh managed to squeak out of him. Slowly he raised the phone back to his ear, “Italy. It’s Gilbert. Are you ok?”  
“Gilbert! How did-you-a survive this-a awful cuisine! I’v-a got three jackets on too! It’s-a freezing here!” Italy cried into the phone.  
“It’s not so bad, Italy.” Prussia looked down the couch at his brother, “He’s fine.” He gave his brother a reassuring smirk, “Italy. I need to talk to Russia. Is he there?”  
“No-a he left some time ago.”  
Prussia let out a heavy sigh. He started to breathe again completely unaware that he’d stopped. Then he turned back to the conversation at hand, “If Russia iz not dere. Do you have any clue where you are?”

Ludwig let out a huge rush of air as relief spread through him. He fell back against the couch, letting his head fall against the cushions. Italy sounded as normal as ever. And he was so damned loud, that everyone in the room could hear him, even though he wasn’t on speaker phone. And his complaints about the food only made Germany happier. It was the exact thing he’d complained about back when he was Britain’s prisoner. If food was his biggest worry, then everything was just fine.  
On the other end of the phone, Italy started to answer Gilbert’s question.  
“I’m-a-so sorry, I don’t know where I am-a. He blindfolded me for the-a-car ride from the airport to-a-his house. But I did see the outside of it when he-a-carried me inside! It’s very big! And umm…ve! Gray! Made of stone, like-a-castle! And it seems very-a-old, like it was-a-built a long time ago. And the windows are such-a-beautiful-a-stained glass! There’s a-lot-a nice art here actually. I was surprised, ve! It seems very-a-historical. I can’t-a-tell you much else. He locked me in-a-one of the rooms on the top floor. I thought about-a-trying to escape. The door is locked from the outside…and I can’t figure out how to get-a-down out the window without-a-breaking a leg. And even if I did…there’s nothing around for miles! It’s all snow!”  
Ludwig seemed to relax even further still. He was in a bedroom. So he had a warm place to sleep and was relatively comfortable. And judging from what he was saying…he was actually enjoying the view from his window and any artwork that happened to be in is room.  
Gott sei Dank, (thank God) he thought. The huge weight that had been on his chest lifted just a little bit. It was just so wonderful to hear Italy’s voice.  
But as Germany listened to the conversation, and as he started to relax in knowing Italy was indeed OK, he was finally able to think again. And as soon as his mind started working, he sat up as a sudden, worrisome thought hit him. Reaching out, he grabbed his brother’s sleeve to get his attention. When Prussia’s red eyes met Germany’s blue, he said,  
“Vhy vould Russia let Italy keep his phone?” His eyes narrowed in utmost seriousness. “He must ‘ave known he’d use it to contact us. Maybe zee phone is tapped…” 

Prussia didn’t have a chance to hear his brother. When he’d been a prisoner in Russia he’d been to more than one of Russia’s home. The larger nation enjoyed a plethora of old homes with an old world feel, but Prussia only remembered one of Russia’s residences with stain glass windows. He jumped to his feet and started to storm off much to everyone’s shock.  
“Mon ami?” France called after Prussia, but Prussia wasn’t listening.  
Gilbert could have cared less about Russia tapping the phone. The icy asshole could gain nothing from this conversation except maybe some sick satisfaction from Gilbert’s response to his sudden realization. The albino ex-nation retreated to his room and began to pace fitfully. He didn’t care that his brother had followed him,  
“Italy! Zis is very important! By the door that leads outside to the hallway! There’s a closet right there, ja? A littlz clozet. Go therez! Near the floor. Does it say‘Preußen war hier’” (Prussia was here)

Italy had listened to Prussia the whole time he’d been talking. By the time Prussia had finished Italy was sitting in the little closet and staring at the phrase. It was carved deeply into the stone. “Si!” He cried cheerfully not seeming to understand, “I-a-found it Gilbert! How did you-a-know?” Italy said happily.

Prussia stopped pacing the shake that he had gotten rid of came back again. His sudden fit of trembling caused him to drop the phone on the floor. Taking a deep, unsteady breath he leaned on his bed using it to keep himself upright. He should have known that asshole would pull something like this. Prussia found himself travelling back into old, dark memories. Then a voice rose from the phone on the floor. It no longer belonged to the cheery Italian. Instead it was a cold, unemotional voice, “Da Comrade Prussia. I was waiting for you to call. You know how to get home, da?”  
“Sohn eines bith (Son of a bitch)”, Prussia’s face turned into a snarl. He spun around glaring at the phone on the ground like it was the embodiment of evil. He raised his booted foot off the floor. He was about to stomp the phone into pieces.

“Gilbert! Nein!” Germany leapt for the phone, desperate to save his only connection to Italy while he was lost in Russia’s ice nation. Diving for it, he knocked it out of the way just in the nick of time. Gilbert’s foot came down on his already broken hand.  
“Autsch!” (Ouch.) Letting out a pain riddled cry, he pulled his hand back and away, clutching it to his chest. With a terrible groan and incapacitated by pain, he didn’t go after the phone which had slid across the floor half way across the room. 

Prussia’s eyes followed the phone as it slid away, but they immediately went back to his brother when he heard him cry out, “Ludwig! Bruder tut mir leid.” (Brother I’m sorry) Prussia bent down gently placing his hand in his brother’s golden hair. He did his best to check him over and help him sit up. A moment later he was walking after the phone and picking it back up with a growl, “You zon of a bitch! Ich werde zerreißen den Kopf ab! (I will rip your head off!) Do you hear me! Ich werde zerreißen den Kopf ab! (I will rip your head off!)”  
“Now. Now. Comrade Gilbert.” Russia’s said on the other end of the phone, “You needed to know what house to come to. I chose dis one! Good choice? You spent much time here. I thought you would appreciate this. Now you can come visit me. You will be coming soon, da?  
Italy is eating me out of house and home. I am afraid I vont be able to keep him long.”  
That made Prussia’s heart skip a beat. The threat against Italy’s wellbeing hit him like a fist in the gut, “Whatz do you want? Why did you do thiz?”  
Prussia’s blood boiled when Russia laughed. He pressed the phone deeper to his ear trying to keep the conversation from his brother especially after what Russia had just said.  
“What do you want from me?” Prussia spoke into the receiver. After that question, Prussia fell silent, but it was obvious he was listening to Russia speak on the other end of the phone. He listened attentively. It stayed that way for unbearable minutes.  
Britain and France had walked to the door of Prussia’s room. They didn’t say anything until they were positive Russia wasn’t on the phone anymore. Britain went to Germany’s side and helped him stand up. Germany accepted Britain’s help, for his abused hand was still throbbing. All three countries watched Prussia and tried to listen at least to his half of the conversation. But it was really hard to make out much of anything. Prussia was being awfully silent. Prussia stood staring off into space. Eventually he hung up and let the phone fall away from his ear. He clutched it in his hand as he stared off into the distance.  
Finally, after he hung up the phone, Germany still cradling his hand took an eager step forward.  
“Vell? Vhat did he say? Vhat does he vant from you?”  
“Huh?” Prussia blinked finally coming back to the present. When he turned back around he was surprised to see Germany, Britain, and France staring at him. The tension in the room was mounting again.  
“Uh. He….” His eyes drifted from Britain, France, and then to his brother. He had to think for a moment to remember what he needed to say. Everything had become jumbled in his head as he was sure he’d fallen into a flashback for a moment.  
“He said a lot of things.” Prussia mumbled quietly. He reached out and dropped the phone carefully on his desk.  
“Sorry Bruder. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Prussia looked towards Germany with a guilty look etched onto his face. Unable to face his brother for long he quickly turned back towards the wall.  
“He’s trying to get at unawezome. He said he would let Italy go when I brought Matthew to his house. He said he wanted America to personally come visit, but he knows he won’t visit on his own accord. Maybe if I go to Russia’s home alone, I can get Italy out by myself.”  
Prussia knew that plan wouldn’t work. Once he was in that place he’d be at Russia’s mercy, and he was in no state to fight Russia one-on-one. If he showed up without Canada, then Russia would surely make him leave to complete the task he’d given him and keep Italy as collateral.  
“Arshloch.” Prussia reached out kicking his desk.  
This web of chaos was woven extremely well among players that would rather die than watch each other suffer. He wouldn’t let the bonds he’d made among his friends and family be his undoing. Those bonds were supposed to make you stronger. Not weaker. It had taken a lifetime and more to finally realize who he cared about. How much he really cared about them. He wasn't going to let any of his loved ones suffer. He wouldn’t betray any of them to Russia. There had to be another way.  
“I needz to go getz zomething. I have an idea.” Prussia walked out of his room blowing quickly by the other three countries including France who looked like he’d wanted to reassure him. Prussia didn’t look back as he marched into his little brother’s meticulous room. It was tidy, organized, and clean enough for inspection. That was one thing Prussia had taught his little brother. He went to his brother’s desk and began pulling out world maps. He needed a map of Russia. He needed to remember how to get to that house. It could be invaluable information for them, but it was hard to think about. It hadn’t been his first torture chamber in Russia. Although he had moved around during his time in Russia he’d been brought back to that house on more than one occasion. It was equipped for keeping unruly subordinates as Russia had once said. As such it was a residence Russia had often come back too. Prussia had spent much time there. Enough to carve away the stone in the room that had been more like a cell.  
Prussia didn’t remember all the places that he’d been dragged to in Russia or how to get to them. Eventually he’d really stopped caring about where he was. However, he remembered that house distinctly, and Russia was mocking him with it.  
It was where he’d been when Russia told him he was going back to Germany’s house. He would had loved to say that he’d jumped for joy at such news, but by that time he’d been pretty much destroyed already. He was simply decaying from what was happening to the small area of East Germany he represented. Any feeling of liberation he could have felt had been quickly snatched back from him right after his captor told him that Germany was being reunited and what was left of East Germany would soon cease to exist.  
That had crushed his spirits. He had hoped for the past 29 years he’d see his little brother again, hold him, and tell him some awezome story, but when Russia told him that… he knew he wouldn’t get the chance. If Germany was reunited he’d be dead. There would be no land mass for him to cling to anymore. Nothing. He’d already lost his nation ages ago, but what he’d represented after that would be stripped away from him when Germany reunited. He was happy for his brother, and he had been prepared to die. He’d only wanted to see Germany on more time. It was in that place in Russia he’d felt most hopeless.  
“Ugh.” Prussia groaned as he lay his head in his hands. His eyes fixated on the map, “Where’z that damn plaze!” He stared down at the map, but it wasn’t helping him remember any faster, "I zhould know!"

Back in Prussia’s room the three nations stood around in an awkward silence until Britain cleared his throat, “The chap seemed pretty upset. Perhaps we should go after him?” Germany quickly shook his head.  
“You two stay ‘ere. Dis is a German issue, unt he’s my big bruder.” Britain seemed more than happy to comply, but France seemed a bit more hesitant. All the same, both did indeed end up staying in Prussia’s bedroom as Germany left to go to Gilbert.  
Once alone, silence pervaded the room the Europeans stood in. It lasted for several awkward seconds as France stared at Britain, as usual Britain looked away. But there was a burning question hanging over them that none of the countries had posed yet. And France decided that perhaps it was time to ask it. He cleared his throat.  
“It seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to in ordair to get ‘is ‘ands on Amerique,” he said quietly to his counterpart. “T’en again, ‘e may want Canada for some reason or anot’er-“  
And as soon as he spoke on the subject, he’d regretted it. He saw the look on Arthur’s face, even though the British country wouldn’t look at him. These were their sons they were talking about. And both had become targets by the largest, most sadistic country in the world. And if Russia had his way…he would take over both Canada and America, and then kill them both. 

It was at that moment that all four countries, while in different rooms, heard the front door slam open.  
“BAM!” Came America’s over-excited voice. “The cavalry has arrived dudes! I’m here to save the day!” Poor Canada was at his side, trembling in place, looking as if he’d just taken a trip through hell and back again. He held his hands to his chest as he gasped in air. Britain and France ran to the front room, and Britain’s eyes widened when he laid eyes on his son,  
“Bloody hell! How did they arrive so early?”

Knowing that America’s voice meant Canada would also be there brought a sense of relief to Prussia. He left the maps of Russia lying on his brother’s desk as he came out of the room. He motioned for his brother to follow him. Then he quickly jogged to the living room a grin finally finding its way back to his face. That grin vanished when he saw the state of his boyfriend.  
“Matthew!” He cried as his shaking boyfriend didn’t even turn to look at him. Canada wordlessly pointed towards the couch. He wanted to sit down, but his legs were refusing to work.  
Prussia ran to Matthew’s side wrapping the scared nation up in his arms. Had Russia already tried something? No. That couldn’t be. America was his normal self. If something had happened to them America would be acting differently.  
“Birdie?” Prussia prompted his boyfriend, but Canada didn’t say a thing as Gilbert helped him to the couch. Canada happily fell onto the couch and kissed the stationary piece of furniture. He was so glad to be back on the ground again, oh so glad. He clutched at his queasy stomach. He was still nauseous, but he’d thrown up everything in his stomach the first time his brother had done some hair brained stunt in the jet they’d taken to get here. So at least he couldn’t throw up again.  
By now all of the nations had come into the living room.  
“What happened to you Matthew?” Britain reached out placing his hand on his son’s shaking head. Matthew was luckily recovering in Prussia’s arms, “H-he-” Matthew stuttered and then shot a very sour look his brother’s way. He hadn’t quite gotten his voice back yet.  
Britain looked over at America, “What did you do? How did you get here so fast? What happened to your brother?”

America threw back his head, laughing in that crazy way of his.  
“He’s just upset about the plane ride!” He explained. “We took one of my super-fast, experimental, and awesome jets to get here. I flew it of course! And he was whining the whole way over! Something about me going too fast?” Stepping over to his brother, he slapped him mercilessly on the back.  
“Seriously bro, you gotta toughen up a bit! I thought it was fun!”

Canada lurched forward when his brother hit him. Prussia held out his hand and swatted America away as he pulled Canada closer to him.  
“Watch it unawezome!”  
Britain stared at his sick son sympathetically, “I can make you some tea, love, in a moment. If Germany has some.” He looked to the German country for approval.  
The longer they sat on the couch the tighter Prussia held onto his boyfriend. Prussia held onto Canada with a slow, steady growing desperation. Canada was the first to notice it because he was in Prussia’s arms. As Canada’s shaking started to subside he slowly looked up at his boyfriend’s face. It was crumpling right before him. Canada blinked.  
“What’s wrong Gilbert?”  
Prussia found himself squeezing Canada all the tighter. He couldn’t tell Canada what he had been told to do by the enemy. He just couldn’t so he held Matthew all the closer.

America was talking loudly and excitingly to pretty much everyone in the room, and so didn’t notice the situation right away. Germany however knew exactly what was going on. But he knew it wasn’t his place to fill in Canada on what was going on. That was up to his brother. Unable to really help, he focused on what he could, which was Britain’s request for tea.  
“Ja. I ‘ave some specifically for company. I’ll show you.” He stepped up beside Britain and started over toward the kitchen, but was stopped by America who had reached out, grabbing his arm to halt him. Flinching, for he just hated being touched by pretty much everyone except Italy, he glowered at the excitable country.  
“Vhat?”  
America opened his mouth, finger in the air as if he were about to say something really trivial and stupid. But as soon as he got a good look at Germany, his expression faltered.  
“Oo…dude…you look like hell.” Germany scowled.  
“Ja, vell vhat vere you expectink? I’m not goink to comb my hair just for you! I don’t care vhat you think I look like!”  
“Geeze man! Chillax dude!” America defended raising his hands. “Things just pop outta my mouth! I don’t think, you know that!” Germany did relax a little after that. It may have been a rude delivery…but he thought America was actually apologizing in his weird, uncouth way. He looked to the southern twins face. He certainly didn’t appear as if he’d meant any harm. He didn’t even look like he was joking around. Perhaps he’d actually been trying to be nice?  
“Germany, dude,” he said. “I just wanted to say sorry about Italy…ok? I know how important he is to you. We’ll get him back!” Flashing his usually smug grin, he then proceeded to jab a thumb into Germany’s chest. “You’ve got America on your side! And no one messes with America’s friends! We’ll crush Russia!”  
Germany stared at America. At first, he wanted to be upset with him. This was all indirectly his fault after all. The only reason Italy had been taken in the first place was because Russia wanted America. But…Ludwig wasn’t fool enough to let himself hold onto that type of anger. He knew it wasn’t really America’s fault at all. In fact, he was surprised the hamburger eating country wasn’t a little more upset. Didn’t he realize he was a target for the most dangerous country in the world? Italy at least…wasn’t Russia’s true goal, so Germany had a good chance of getting him back unharmed. But America…well that was a different story. If Russia got what he wanted, not only would America’s brother be killed, but America himself would be killed too. Didn’t he realize that at all?  
In looking at Alfred’s stupid face, Ludwig almost decided that perhaps he didn’t know. He sure wasn’t acting like he knew he and his family were in trouble. Instead, he was spouting his usual nonsense about being some hero. Germany sighed. He couldn’t be mad at him. He was too dumb, he was trying to be supportive, and in the end, he was also a victim of Russia…whether he realized it or not.  
“Danke, America,” he said simply. He patted the eager country on the shoulder, then turned to head into the kitchen with Arthur.  
With Germany and Arthur gone, Alfred’s attention turned back to his brother, but America was distracted when France came up to his side and started to speak.

Canada had managed to pull himself back together from his crazed brother’s plane ride. He was now sitting with his hands on Gilbert’s face. He was holding his boyfriend’s face as it scrunched up into a pained expression. Canada was a bit surprised to see that look on Prussia. He cried out his trademark, “Eh!” as Gilbert threw his arms around him once more. The ghost nation clung tightly to him sounding more alarms in Canada’s head.  
“Gilbert. What’s the matter? We’ll get Italy back. I promise.” Prussia shook his head ‘no’ to let his boyfriend know that was not the cause of his current dilemma.  
“I spoke to ze azzhole. He wantz me to bring you to Ruzzia. Until then he’z keeping Italy.”  
Canada felt his eyes widen in shock.  
“He wants you to take me to Russia?” That was so close to the other time line that it made his stomach knot up, but he knew he had to reassure his boyfriend, “Ok. It’s gonna be ok. We’ll think of something. You don’t need to worry about me going to Russia.” Canada wrapped his arms around Prussa and held him tight They'd get through this.

America took the last few steps over to the side of the couch. He didn’t even hesitate when he cried out,  
“No way! There’s no fucking way we’re doing that! That’s how Mattie got killed in the future!”  
By now, the tea was done and Britain and Germany were walking back into the room with a tray full of steaming cups. Britain, somehow, was remaining as calm as ever as he casually laid the tray down onto the table that Ludwig had tossed across the room just the night before. Germany however, was not as calm. He also marched over to the couch, standing in front of Gilbert and Canada, and also next to America.  
“Vell ve can’t very vell just leave Italy at Russia’s! If he doesn’t see Canada relatively soon, he might…” But his voice trailed off. He just couldn’t even finish the sentence out loud. America, although sympathetic, knew very well that he had to protect his own, just as Germany was doing.  
“Well we’re just gunna have to think of something else! Matt’s not going anywhere near that place! Don’t you guys remember what future America said? Don’t you remember what he looked like? Dudes! That was World War Three! That’s what we’re talking about here! If Matt goes to that awful place, he’ll be kept there while Russia goes and bombs Canada!” And a quick wince crossed Alfred’s face as the dreaded words left his mouth.  
“And then he’ll take over, and he’ll come after me next. And guess what dudes? After he’s got America, don’t you think he’d go and take over Europe too? He’d go for Britain next! He’ll take us out one by one! So no! No fucking way! We know this is how it all started, by Matt going over to Russia. If we just keep him away from that psycho, we can prevent Russia from taking over the whole fucking planet!”  
“And vhat about Italy then?” Germany suddenly shouted. “Hm? Vhat do you suppose ve should do about dat? Should ve just leave him dere? He’s also a veak country, like Canada.”  
“Hey!” Canada objected. But he was ignored as usual as Germany continued.  
“Russia could just decide dat vithout Canada, he’ll just go ahead unt bomb Italy instead, ja? Den ve’ll ‘ave zee same exact situation except in reverse. If Italy dies, Germany vould fall in an instant, unt den he’ll move onto Europe as you suggested! Vouldn’t you be kickink yourself if Russia vent ahead and killed Britain and France before comink after you and your bruder? You’re demise is just the same. It vould just take longer!”  
“Dude! There’s no telling if the rest of Europe would fall just because it lost Italy. But if Canada falls first then we-!”  
“You shut zee hell up!” Germany suddenly took a large, threatening step forward, putting himself right into America’s face. “Don’t you dare say a single vord suggestink dat Italy is any less important den Canada! I svear to Gott I vill punch you right in zee face!”  
America never took kindly to people who threatened him, or came up into his space. Very quickly, a scowl came to his face. Rising to the challenge, as always, he also stepped forward, standing up straight and tall in order to match his opponent.  
“Well Matt’s not going to Russia! And that’s fucking final!” Germany’s vein popped to life in his forehead, and it was becoming increasingly clear that neither country was going to budge on their position. The tension in the room was mounting, rapidly as both countries stared each other down. Jaws set like steel, and eyes sparking, it appeared as if fists would fly at any given second. 

“Alfred!”  
“Ludwig!” Canada and Prussia jumped up in front of their two brothers keeping them apart, but Germany and America weren’t settling down. Their words had gone a step too far, and neither country wanted their loved ones to suffer. They were both willing to fight over that.  
“HEY!” Britain yelled over all four nations, “You should all be ashamed of yourselves!” Britain’s voice was firm but very calm as he stared between Germany and America with cool emerald eyes. “This is not a world meeting! We do not have time to be arguing amongst ourselves and resolve nothing! We have things to do! Alfred! I did not raise you to turn your back on your allies when it gets inconvenient! And Germany! You are a reasonable nation. Forgive Alfred for his hot headedness. He loves Matthew just like you love Gilbert. We are NOT abandoning Italy, Germany.”  
He placed the tea tray down on the little wooden table in Germany’s living room. Then he turned back to all four of them once more.  
“We need a plan. A good plan that sacrifices no one, Prussia! Listen! You said you had been to that house before. We need to know where it is. We could have an element of surprise and you’re about to start beating the shit out of each other! Now is not the time for this!”

Germany sighed, letting his hackles lower. He knew Britain was right. He was just really high strung. Thinking of Italy being in danger was just so…hard. He looked to Alfred. He understood his viewpoints too. After all…the two of them were pretty much in the same exact boat. Both of their brothers were in danger.  
“Sorry…America. I’m just…very stressed. Dat is all.” Too proud to say anything more, he turned away from the southern twin.  
Alfred let out a small ‘hmph,’ then turned away as well. His cheeks had started to burn. He never liked being scolded, especially not in front of other countries. All the same…even if he liked and understood Germany’s viewpoints…he knew he’d do anything for Matthew. Anything. He knew he’d die for him. He’d trade Italy for Canada any day of the week. He didn’t care how cruel it may have seemed to others. Matthew was his brother. His twin brother. Glancing to Britain he let out a small snarl.  
“I sure hope your plan to keep Matt safe goes better than the last one you had,” he muttered unhappily. Clearly, he was still quite sore about what had happened at the world meeting.  
Germany sighed at the tension in the room. Wanting to escape it for at least a second, he turned to the hallway.  
“I’ll go…get zee map.” Then he walked off to fetch it from his bedroom. Coming back a few minutes later, he sat down on the couch next to Prussia. Unrolling it, he laid it across his, Prussia’s and Canada’s legs. “Here big bruder. Do you remember vhere you vere held?”

Prussia stared at the map trying to recall the memories long since buried.  
"Itz hard. A lot of the timez I wazn't paying attention." Canada sat on the couch as his boyfriend moved his fingers along the map to different locations. He had been at the fall of the Berlin Wall. Most of the Western Capitalist Countries had. He remembered Germany being frantic at that time, but Canada hadn't met Prussia then. He’d only heard about the state Gilbert had been in from others. Matthew couldn't imagine what had happened during his time behind the wall would be easy to remember. Canada remembered the rumors that had been passed around at that time, and they hadn’t been good. The quiet nation reached out wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriend and lay his cheek on his shoulder reassuringly.  
"Take your time." He said quietly holding his boyfriend tightly, "I know it can't be easy on you."  
Britain looked to the cranky America, "We all have to come up with this plan, America. It can't be just one of us coming up with it. I think it would be best if we all work on the strategies and we all come to an agreement. The important thing is that we all stick together, and we all trust each other. First things first; we know what Russia ultimately wants. Even taking Canada is another means to an end. Eventually, he wants to come after you America, and we need to keep everyone safe.”  
Britain paused to look Germany’s way,  
“America is right. We can't lose Matthew in Russia. We can't lose Italy, either. Then again from what I understand he wants you to go back as well Gilbert. I am concerned the most for you. I know neither of you want to hear it, but Italy and Canada will be fine as long as their countries still stand. We can increase security to make sure that nothing happens to their lands for the time being.  
You on the other hand, Gilbert... Russia did enough damage to kill you in a fist fight. You would have bled to death if Matthew hadn't gotten you to the hospital. I am most worried for your wellbeing. Gilbert if you can remember the house that gives everyone here a great tactical advantage. We really need that information. We wouldn't have to send you two. We could be at Russia's home mounting a rescue party for Italy if we left now."  
Prussia started to sweat as Britain made that great point. If he could remember the damn house they could all be mounting a rescue right now, but he couldn't remember. The meeting coordinates Russia gave him over the phone were no help either. He knew that was nowhere near the house he was trying to remember. Now everyone was looking at him expectantly and the pressure wasn't helping him remember any faster.  
The sweat ran down his face as he looked around at all the countries in the room. Canada's face was the most reassuring of all. His boyfriend only looked at him sympathetically, but he knew he was letting Ludwig down by not being able to figure out the location. Germany could feasibly have Italy back by the morning if he could have only remembered. He was letting America down too because the closer it got to the deadline the greater the chance became that Matthew would have to go into Russia.

But Germany, as upset and frightened as he was, loved his brother. And even though they weren’t nearly as showy about their affections like the north American twins, they loved each other just as much, if not more so. They were just quieter and more stoic. They were German after all.  
Reaching out, Ludwig put a reassuring hand on his older brother’s shoulder.  
“It’s ok Gilbert,” he said. “If you can’t remember den you can’t remember and dat’s dat. Take your time, ok? If you can’t think of anythink, ve’ll come up vith a different plan.”  
America however, wasn’t nearly as patient. He’d ended up crossing his arms as they waited. And never good at standing still for long, he started tapping his foot too. That was…until Arthur shot him a very parental, very scolding look.  
Alfred frowned, then stopped tapping his foot and uncrossed his arms. Now however, he was shoving his hands into his pockets. Seemingly still unable to keep still, or wait for Gilbert to regain a lost memory, he started pacing the room.  
Britain sighed. He knew it wasn’t entirely Alfred’s fault. The kid was a prime candidate for attention deficit disorder. He and France had never had him tested. He was a country after all, and a lot of his personality traits were entirely dependent on the majority of the people in his land. Therefore a doctor certainly wouldn’t help. Still…Britain often wondered if it wasn’t so much attention deficit disorder as it was all the sugar he was constantly eating. He was so hyped up on caffeine, soda, coffee, and processed sugary junk that it was no wonder he couldn’t ever sit still or shut up. America had been like that as a child too. An endless ball of energy. At least…until he ran out. Then he’d fall down on the floor, mid-step while running, and be unconscious for the rest of the evening.  
Arthur had to smile to himself at least a little. Sometimes he missed those days. Even though, really, Alfred hadn’t changed all that much, and he wished he would have grown up and matured at least a little. Sometimes he seemed as if he were the exact same kid he once was…just bigger. Britain’s nostalgia was cut off when Prussia spoke.

"Nein." Prussia muttered, "I don’t remember."  
Britain sighed, but he couldn't say he'd expected Prussia to remember. He had been dragged along with France to search for the missing nation after the fall of the wall. He had seen what had become of the once great nation, and so had France. France saw the pressure Prussia was currently feeling. Everyone was feeling it again. 

“Listen! Ve should be vorking harder! Ve should come up vith a different plan!”  
Huffing, and planting his hands on his hips Germany faced the crowd in his usual over the top militant style.  
“I suppose it’s up to me, since novon else ‘ere can focus for more den two seconds! I propose dat vithout a known location, ve put a trackink device on Gilbert or Matthew unt send dem into enemy territory together. Den vhen dey arrive at their location, he can take off zee device unt hide it somevhere vhere Russia von’t find it. Dat vay, even if Russia searched Prussia or Canada dey von’t be found vith anythink on them! Den, ve can all follow closely behind. In fact, I propose ve all fly on zee plane directly after Gilbert unt Matthew. Dat vay, ve’ll only be a few hours behind dem at most. Ve can mount a rescue. Even vith all of Russia’s underlings, he can’t take us all on himself, no matter how strong he is. Ve beat the ever lovink schiss out of him to teach him a lesson unt to scare him out of ever messink vith us again, then ve tie him up so he can’t follow us, unt ve all go home!”  
It was actually a fairly decent plan. And it seemed relatively safe. At least…as safe at anyone could make it considering their options, which weren’t many. Several of the nations in the room looked up, eyes flickering to life with the idea. Britain put a hand to his chin in thought.  
“Well…we will need to work out the details of that but…I believe you might have something there Germany.” Everyone seemed to be easing up a bit. That was…everyone but America. He stomped forward, putting himself between the table where Britain sat with the tea, and most of the other nations on the sofa.  
“No! No fucking way! Arthur! I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this! We can’t do this plan! We can’t send Matt into Russia! Period!” 

"Don't get your knickers in a wad, lad. It's a sound plan" Britain said curtly to his son, "I know it is not what you wanted to hear, but we all knew this may become a possibility. If we follow them there they would be safe. We could rescue them within hours."  
"Alfred." Matthew said from the couch, "Calm down." He got to his feet. He went to walk to his brother, "I'm ok with this plan. You don't have to panic."

But Alfred wasn’t having it. As Canada approached, he pulled away from him appearing as if he’d been betrayed or hurt.  
“No! No it’s not ok, all right? A couple hours isn’t good enough! Hell, one hour isn’t good enough! What if Gilbert plants the tracking device in the house and then Russia just up and moves everybody to a different location? We’d never find them! And isn’t that what future me said? Didn’t he say they moved to different locations and that’s why we could never find Matt? Didn’t he say he looked everywhere? Russia’s probably got like…a bagillion secret locations to stash people in!”  
He looked around the room at all the other nations. He didn’t expect Germany to be on his side…but he sure as hell expected Prussia and Britain to be with him. He was truly shocked that Britain would allow Matthew anywhere near that entire continent considering he was his father. And Gilbert, he was supposed to love him, right?  
Alfred broke out into a sweat when he saw the looks he was receiving. Everyone was silent. Alfred at first was disappointed that he didn’t have any back-up. But very shortly afterward…his expression hardened.  
So what if I don’t have anyone backing me up, I’ll protect Matt myself! Even if Matthew himself doesn’t like it!  
“Look! I’ve already said it like ten times since I got here! Matt’s not going near that fucking country! That’s all there is to it!” 

Prussia glanced at America for a second. Then he looked away. He knew that this was painful for the Southern twin. He didn't want to make him uncomfortable by staring. Plus he felt guilty. He didn't want Matthew in harm’s way, but the plan could work. He had to believe in it, and he did. He believed in Germany, Britain, France, and America. They would come and save them.  
"Alfred." Matthew walked in front of his brother and waited for him to look at him. He gazed sympathetically at his brother. "I know this scares you. More than anything. I'm sorry. Listen to me though. You are not that other America. That other America didn't even notice I was missing until months after I was gone. You are a good big brother Alfred, and you'll find me. I'm not scared. I know you'll protect us. It's only a few hours. It's the best plan that we have."

Matthew’s words pierced him more thoroughly than any dagger. Hearing him say that he was a ‘good big brother’ and that he knew Alfred would protect him, that he wasn’t scared because he knew America would be there…were things that meant more to him than he had even known until that moment.  
For a very tense, very emotional few seconds, he struggled to get his feelings under control. They had bubbled up, threatening to overwhelm him. He dared not show too much of himself in front of the others. And so, for just a little while, he stood still, and was silent…something Britain would have taken note of. Then, finally, he stepped forward and threw his arms around his little brother. He hugged him tightly, slapping him on the back several times, more for show for the other countries than anything else. If he wasn’t trying to put up a tougher front, he would have just held him forever. Instead, he slapped him a few more times, then let him go. All the same, Matthew would have been more than able to feel how frightfully fast his brother’s heart had been beating. When they parted, America looked to Germany.  
“Ok…when should they leave?”  
Germany offered the southern twin a nod of respect. He knew it was hard for America. It was probably one of the hardest things he’d ever had to agree too. But…he’d done it, and that was what mattered.  
“Vell, I already ‘ave zee equipment ve need. So…vhat ve need to do is some math. Russia thinks Canada is still at home right now. So ve need to calculate his trip time to mein house, unt then more travel to unt from zee airports. Also, I’d imagine he’d expect Canada to stay here to rest at least for a bit before leavink for Russia. So…all in all, I’d say ve should put Matthew unt Gilbert on a flight first thing in the morning. Den, zee rest of us should catch the plane after theirs.”  
America nodded along with all the rest of the countries, but he wasn’t looking nearly as well. Pale, sweat covering his skin, he struggled to hide the trembling that had suddenly started up in his lower legs.


	17. Twin Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan doesn't go as planned

Chapter 17  
Twin Swap

 

All the nations had settled down for the night.  
Once again Matthew felt a little torn about comforting his twin or comforting his boyfriend that night. He knew they both needed him, but Alfred had quickly said he didn't need any comforting and kicked him out of his room. Matthew had known his brother was lying, but he didn't push him. As such Matthew had gone and slept in Prussia's room.  
Before Britain settled down in his own room he knocked on his son's door, but he didn't go in. He knew his son needed privacy right now.  
"America. I know how hard this is for you. I-" His voice caught in his throat as he thought about what he wanted to say next, "I'm proud of you, Alfred. You're taking great personal risk to help someone in need. That's what it means to be a real hero. Well. Goodnight then, love." He turned and walked away from the door and into his own room. Then the house fell silent.

It took Alfred forever to fall asleep. He tossed and turned in his strange bed, in the strange house, in the strange country he was currently in. His sheets smelt way too fresh for comfort. They were clean, and crisp and ironed. It was very unlike his own bed. His pillow was too hard too. And it was much colder in Germany than it was in America. Shivering, he pulled the blankets up more tightly around himself.  
What’s that German idiot keep the heat set to in his house? Fifty?  
Agitated, and much more afraid than he even let himself feel, he buried his face in the strange smelling pillow. He suddenly found himself wishing he was home…and not just home in America. He felt himself missing his days as a child. Days when he and his brother not only shared a room, but a bed.  
He remembered the nightly ritual they had before bed. Matthew was always the good child, the obedient child who brushed his teeth when Britain told him too. And he’d get right into his PJ’s and climb the stairs and go straight to bed. Alfred however, would kick and scream and beg for more time with his coloring books, or building blocks, or whatever project or game it was he was working on.  
Poor Britain had to pretty much force him into his PJ’s and to brush his teeth, half-assed. Eventually though, the twins would be lain down together in the same bed and on the same sheets. And of course, once the lights were out and all evidence of parents gone, Alfred would immediately start playing with his little brother.  
He remembered the tickle fights they had, and the late night giggles, where everything was funny, no matter how stupid it was. And sometimes, they’d sneak a lantern and some books under the covers with them and try to play games without Britain finding out. And then there were even the times when they fought. Mostly over who got which side of the bed, and who was clearly over the line of their allotted side.  
Alfred smiled in memory, but even as he grinned, he felt something wet start to roll down his cheeks, drenching the pillow he rested on.  
Growing up so close to a sibling, a twin, made it impossible to figure out what life would be like without them. He knew Matthew’s every facial expression, every tone of voice. He could even pull up his very scent from memory alone. They had certainly played in enough mud puddles and shared enough baths together for that.  
And he would never, ever forget the time they all went for a picnic and the woods and had accidentally left Matthew alone in the forest. He was so quiet and timid…sometimes he had been easy to miss. Especially with the huge stink America made for himself every second of every day. He knew he’d hogged all the attention.  
But that day…he’d never felt so guilty. He remembered running back to find him, terrified that he’d gotten lost, or hurt. Eventually he did find him, curled up tight in a little ball, beside a large oak tree. He’d been crying so hysterically.  
Alfred remembered that being the first time he ever really felt like a failure as a brother. And it certainly hadn’t been the last. He’d messed up plenty of times growing up.  
I won’t mess up again! He ferociously told himself as his pillow continued to grow wetter beneath him. I won’t I won’t I won’t! And it may have been childish. But it was his complete stubbornness and refusal to admit that anything could stop him from being a good big brother than finally helped him to fall into a restless, uneasy sleep. He closed his moistened eyes, and gradually was taken away into the darkness.

The entire world seemed as if it were on fire. As Alfred stood in the center of what used to be an American town, he could scarcely believe it was a part of his great country. The town was pretty much completely gone. In ruins, most of the houses in the suburban area had already burnt completely to the ground and were now nothing more than ash. The ones that remained standing were aflame with brilliant reds and yellows.  
The heat was almost unbearable. It threatened to melt his leather jacket to his skin. The smoke was just as bad. It came in waves on the whims of the air currents, blowing ash and debris into his eyes and nose. Forced to inhale at some point, it burnt his throat on the way down into his lungs. Coughing, he lifted his hands to try and shield his eyes from the floating embers.  
Even so, the little suburban town appeared to be a complete hell. Once happy flowerbeds had been completely ripped up and out of the ground. Any civilian cars had been crushed, glass from the windows littered the streets.  
The sky above him was a bloody red, and as he lifted his eyes, he saw war planes in formation just above him, silhouetted against the clouds and smoke.  
His heart beat with terror when he saw that the planes weren’t his. They were very clearly Russian.  
“Matthew!” He suddenly screamed into the burning suburbs. And when he did, he remembered why he was there. Russia, after having gotten what he’d wanted, had finally released Matthew to him after months of imprisonment. Russia had said he’d put him in one of these houses, in this particular town.  
“Matthew!” He screamed again. His heart pounded violently in his chest as terror like he’d never known before took him over. His feet moved, but he was hardly even aware of it. As he ran down the street, desperately seeking his little brother, he tried not to look at the bodies of his civilians. There was a woman, lying dead in her driveway to his right. God only knew how she’d died. Alfred knew that the Russian ground troops had already been through this area, burning it as they passed and killing all the people they’d seen.  
There was a little boy to his right, lying face down in the gutter. He dared not stop to gaze at him too long. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t bear to see the corpses of a people he loved so dearly, a people he’d tried to serve and protect.  
He’d failed. He’d failed everyone. And if his country was going to crumble to the ground, then he at least wanted to see his brother before he died.  
Not even aware of the pain he was in, for he’d somehow numbed himself to it all, he kept running. More war planes roared overhead. Bombers judging by the size of them. And Alfred somehow just knew they were heading for the Whitehouse.  
Knowing he would soon collapse from the attack he was under, he desperately searched through the fire and the blood. He needed his brother. If nothing else…he at least needed to know Matthew was ok. If only Canada would make it…then he wouldn’t have died for nothing. His people wouldn’t have died for nothing. All of the innocent families around him…mothers and fathers and children, even their dogs. Everything he’d built over the past 200 years, everything he stood for was being stripped away.  
Alfred let out a scream from the sheer agony of what he was going through. But following closely after, was another cry for his brother.  
And then, there, finally, was the house he was looking for. It came up on his right. It was Britain’s house, and it looked exactly as it did when he was young. It was the only house left standing, but it too was on fire.  
“Matt!” He screamed. Knowing very well that he was inside, Alfred raced headfirst up the front steps and into the front door. He didn’t care about the danger. He was a dead country anyway. The least he could do was save his brother. Bursting through a curtain of flame, he found himself on the other side. Oddly…the living room seemed completely untouched. In fact, it was perfect. Far too perfect for the hell America was in.  
The lights were on. And all the furniture was there and upright and in its correct spot. There was no fire in the living room. None at all. Looking to the window, Alfred could see it raging outside, but it didn’t seem to touch the living room.  
“I…wh…what…?” And then there, sitting in Britain’s big armchair, was his brother. He seemed equally untouched. Perfect, like the room around him. He appeared almost as if he were sleeping.  
Gasping for breath and coughing violently from the smoke and the fire he’d inhaled outside, Alfred staggered toward his little brother. Shaking from the trauma he was under, his body throbbing in pain, he reached the armchair. Staring down at his perfect, untouched twin, he started to cry.  
“Oh thank God! Thank God you’re not hurt!” Reaching out, his arms burnt and blistered, he took Canada up and into them. He clutched his twin to his chest and simply began to sob. As he did, Matthew woke up. Blinking, his eyes as large and as beautiful a violet as he ever remembered, he gazed up at his war-riddled twin.  
“Al? Why’re you crying?” He asked. Wiping blood and soot from his face, but never daring to let go of Matthew, he struggled to look at him.  
“Because, bro…you’re ok.” He tried to smile for him, tried to be brave, but it was hard. He knew he’d be dead soon. Canada smiled up at him, almost innocently.  
“But I’m not ok,” he suddenly said. Alfred blinked the tears from his eyes in confusion at what he’d just said.  
“Wh…what?”  
“I’m not ok,” Canada said again. “You failed. You failed me. You let me go to Russia, remember? I’m dead Al. You’re making all this up in your head, because you can’t handle the truth of what you’ve done.”  
Alfred could only gape. His blue eyes widening in the sea of red around him. And as he stared at Matthew’s sweet, untouched face, he realized that Matthew was right. He was dead.  
And just like that, as the truth settled in on him, he lifted his head to see the paradise around him start to crumble away. In its place he saw the same hell from which he’d just come. The drapes by the window were actually aflame. And the walls were half gone from the damage. His world began to disintegrate all around him, crumbling into ash and fire and blood.  
“No! NOOO!” He screamed. And then, as he held his brother more tightly, he suddenly felt the texture of his twins skin change. He was suddenly far too cold, and far too stiff. Completely horrified, he turned his head, even though he didn’t want to see. But he did anyway, and when his gigantic blue eyes shifted to his brother, he found him already dead in his arms. His skin was half burnt away by flames, his golden hair ripped out from Russia’s abuse. His skin was gray, and his eyes were hollow. He’d clearly been dead for several days. America’s breath got caught in his throat for only one horrific second, and then, he screamed.  
When America woke up in the guest room where he’d been staying, he thrashed in his bed, fighting desperately against the sheets that bound him. His bed soaked with sweat and tears he screamed loud enough for the entire house to hear. It was blood curdling and pierced through the walls like paper.

On the outside of the room some of the nation’s woke up faster than others. Germany was one of the first up and out of bed with a gun, thinking they were under attack. Prussia and Canada had woken up at the scream, and Canada had hopped out of bed only a few seconds later. Running into the hall he tried to open the bedroom door that lead to his brother, but it was locked. He immediately began trying to pick the lock, but he couldn’t get inside. It was Britain who came down the hallway next. Seeing Matthew fight with the locked door he simply waved his quieter son off to the side. Then with lightning fast skill he picked the lock and flung the door open.  
“America.” He called into the dark room as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room from the light of the hallway outside. It may have been dark, but he could still hear his son sobbing, and it broke his heart.  
Then Matthew flew by his father who had stopped just inside the door and ran to his brother. Matthew jumped on the side of the bed and crawled the remainder of the way to his brother’s side.  
“Alfred! Alfred, It’s ok. It was just a dream.” He didn’t think twice about anything. He reached out grabbing a hold of his brother’s shirt. He yanked his terrified twin into his arms. He could feel Alfred shaking uncontrollably. He could feel America’s sweat drenched clothes, and his usually joyous face was so terrified about whatever had taken place in his dream that he hardly looked like the America everyone was used to. In fact he had that same look as the soldier who had come from the future.  
Matthew reached out and with his sleeve wiped at his brother’s face. In the end it served little purpose as fresh tears sprung up to replace the ones that had been wiped away.  
“Shh.” Matthew soothed as he wrapped his brother up tightly in his arms. He let Alfred’s head rest just under his chin, “Shhh. It was a dream. It was another nightmare.” Gently he rubbed his brother’s back trying to reassure him. “It wasn’t real.”  
He rubbed soothing circles on his brother’s back and was glad when Britain came over and hugged them both as well. Britain rested his hand on the back of his distraught son’s head and gently smoothed down his wet hair.

Germany had stopped briefly in the doorway, just to make sure that they weren’t in any danger. But once he saw what was really taking place, he both relaxed, and then filled with sympathy. He’d once suffered his fair share of night terrors too, mostly back during world war two. He imagined most countries had experienced night terrors at one time or another in their long lives. After all…every country had its fair share of pain. But the German nation knew it would eventually pass, and he also recognized that this was a family affair. And so, he soundlessly stepped back out and into the hall to leave the family alone.  
With his family around him, Alfred reached out, gripping both his father and brother by the backs of their shirts. He held them in close to himself with a deathly grip, hurting them unintentionally with the extreme degree of his dread. Desperation radiated off of him, as if he thought they may die right there in his arms.  
Trembling with the horror of it, he had no hope of controlling himself, or trying to act like everything was ok, which was what he usually did when facing a problem. There was no way he’d be able to joke this one off, or pretend like it didn’t matter.  
It did.  
It mattered more than anything.  
Tears still streaming down his face, Alfred finally released Britain, and then completely turned to his brother. Wrapping him up in both arms, he nearly crushed him as he buried his face in his neck. Still shaking wildly, his heart galloping away from within his chest, he muttered between sobs,  
“Don’t…don’t go! Don’t…” But his request was ill timed. The horizon just outside the window was starting to lighten, and if any of the countries looked at a clock, they would realize that Prussia and Canada needed to leave for the airport in about an hour. Alfred simply woke everyone up a few minutes early.  
“Don’t! You’ll die! You’ll die!” He cried in dismay. 

Matthew let out a weak "eh." Of discomfort as his brother crushed him, but he dare not let go. He was more committed than that. He reached up gently patting his brother's head.  
"America...." He could feel his brother's pain. Another one of those twin things he was sure. He could feel his brother's heart racing in his chest in an uncontrollable way, "Shhhh.... Just breathe." He gently patted his brother's back, "Alfred. You know I can't bail on the plan. I'm sorry, but please.... I hate seeing you suffer like this. It will all be over soon, right? We just have to go teach Russia a lesson."  
Britain reached out to gently put his hand on Alfred's shoulder reassuringly.  
"America. This is going to work. Don't worry. We'll keep Matthew safe. I will be there. You will be there. Germany too. We'll keep him safe. Ok? Matthew will be safe. I'll make sure of it. I am his father after all." He casually left out France not really believing in the perverted nation's ability to help. 

“No! No! He’s not safe! Germany’s priority is Italy, not Canada! And Prussia can’t help us fight! And your stupid plan almost got him killed at the world meeting! I…I thought he was gone! I ran through those damned halls and I just couldn’t find him! I can never find him!” He collapsed into another but of tears. America may have not had that same ‘twin sense’ as Canada, and now, it was appearing that his inability to sense his twin was causing him a lot of harm. It seemed as if almost all of the nightmares he’d been having revolved around the idea of Matthew being missing, or captured, and America running aimlessly, lost, and unable to locate him.  
“You let him go by himself last time!” America accused. “And look what happened? And now everyone wants to do the same damned thing again! I don’t understand this! You might let this stupid plan happen but I won’t! I’m not letting him go in there! Not without me! If I lose sight of him again I…he…he won’t come back! He just won’t come back!”  
It was hard to tell how much of Alfred’s opinions were simply hysteria, and how much of them were what he truly thought. Either way, his words bit deeply into the British nation.

"America...." Britain stared down at his distraught son with a crestfallen look, but he really had nothing he could say. America's words were true, and they did hurt. He really hadn't thought Canada would have been hurt at the world meeting, and his inability to track Matthew had caused both of his son's pain. He took a step back from America.  
"Alfred. I promise. I'll make sure this will all work out." With a few last quiet words to his son he walked out of the room leaving Canada to calm his brother down.  
Matthew sighed heavily as he continued to hold his brother. He heard Britain close the door as he left the room. He saw the sun starting to creep up and knew the time for him to leave was drawing closer.  
"Alfred. Germany and Italy love each other. Of course his top priority is Italy, but that does not mean he'd stab us in the back. Germany is risking so much too. Everyone is. They all want this plan to succeed. Alfred everything is going to work out. Ok? You're going to be following behind me. I'll be safe with Prussia, and we'll save Italy. Then we'll show Russia what for and he'll never bother us again, eh?"  
Matthew pulled back a little bit so he could look at his brother's face. He gave Alfred a few more minutes to come out of his hysteria. Once more Matthew found himself gently wiping his brother's face dry.  
"You're a mess." Matthew said, "Come on. Let's go to the bathroom." Matthew helped his brother to his feet and walked him to the bathroom adjacent to the room. He sat his brother down on the rim of the tub. Then went and got a wash cloth and held it below the sink faucet. After it became thoroughly drenched he rang it out and headed back to his brother's side. He held the cloth up to Alfred's face wiping away the tear trails and soothing the redness in his face with the cool cloth.

Alfred finally started to calm down once he felt the cool cloth press against his burning skin. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on getting his breathing under control. Taking in several deep breaths, he felt the pressure in his chest start to loosen just a tad.  
Simply being with his brother eased the burden. Having him near, and feeling his presence assured him that he was still alive still well, still healthy. He knew exactly where he was when he was standing right in front of him, pressing a wash cloth to his face.  
America suddenly let out a small chuckle of amusement.  
“I act like I’m the toughest country on this planet…but…you’re always taking care of me when I inevitably fall apart…”  
“Don’t be too hard on yourself Al. America is a really stressful country to personify.” Alfred watched his little brother move back to the sink to re-wet the rag, and as Alfred watched him…he couldn’t help but to remember September Eleventh.  
They’d been in a bathroom…similar to this one when the pain had set in. And all Alfred remembered was thanking God that Matthew had been with him…because the attack had been so sudden and so fast…he’d simply passed out from the intense agony. And of course…when he awoke and was bedridden, riddled with anguish for the next month or so…it had been Matt that had watched over him. It had been Matt that mopped up his blood…which never seemed to stop flowing.  
"Don't be so hard on Britain. He's doing his best, Alfred. You'll see. The plan will work. Ok?” His little brother said. Coming back over to him, and seeing that Alfred was feeling better, Canada handed him the rag.  
“I need to go get ready for the trip...." Matthew reached out gently brushing Alfred's hair out of his face now that his brother was starting to look a bit more normal, "It's going to be ok. You can stay with me until it's time for me to go." He stood up pulling his brother up with him then started to lead him back out of the bathroom. 

But of course…as soon as those words left Canada’s mouth, America felt the same stabbing panic set in all over again. It pierced his heart, causing it to pick up speed once more. His chest re-tightened, making it harder to breathe. The same terror from his nightmare threatened to take him a second time.  
He’s leaving! He thought in horror. He’s going to go through with this crazy plan! I can’t stop him! Terrified, and being pulled toward the bathroom door, America tried to think of something, anything at all that would keep his brother from going to Russia.  
I can’t let this happen! I have to stop this! He’s my brother! If I don’t do something, no one will! If I don’t do something…he’ll disappear! His mind raced. And quite suddenly, he was coming up with wild fantasies of just grabbing him, running out of the house and back to his jet.  
I’ll kidnap him and take him to my place! Consequences be damned!  
But he knew it would never work. Breaking out into a sweat, his heart threatening to explode, or in the very least make him physically sick with dread, he pulled back and away from the doorway.  
“No! Stop!”  
Canada did stop. His hand still gripping America’s firmly, he turned back to look at him. And when he did, America got another good look at his brother’s sweet face.  
Oh my God, he thought. He’s too innocent for this. I can’t let this happen to him! I have to do something, anything!  
“I…I…I’ll go instead!” He suddenly blurted. Matthew blinked, his blue-purple eyes widening in surprise.  
“What?” But then a small, sweet, smile came over his pale lips. “Alfred, you know that would never work! Russia asked specifically for me. It’s the only way to get Italy.”  
And that was when America got the idea. As he looked at his brother, his twin brother, he remembered just how similar they actually looked. He and Matthew of course had always seen the differences between one another…but a lot of other people hadn’t. Even when growing up, there had been so many times when France and Britain had both mistaken one for the other. And even as adults, how many times did the other countries mistake Canada for America?  
America fixated his gaze on his brother. The differences between them were very subtle. They both were the same height, and had the same exact face. They were identical twins after all. Even their hair color was the same golden blonde. Matthew’s had a bit more of a wave to it…but Alfred was sure he could work around that. And the only other differences between them was their weight (Alfred being heavier by several pounds) and their eye color. But even then…both had blue eyes of almost the same hue. The only difference was that Canada’s had a slight tinge of purple to them. All the same, blue still looked blue unless you put the two twins directly next to each other.  
America’s face hardened as he stared at his little brother, a seriously dangerous thought entering his head. And of course, as he stared, poor Canada started to get the distinct feeling that he should be nervous.  
“Al? Why’re you staring at me like that?”  
America knew Canada would never go for it. He’d never agree to his plan. But America knew…he was going to do it anyway. There was no way in heaven on earth or in hell that he was letting him go to that God forsaken country.  
I will go, he thought doggedly. I will go and I will be Canada. I will protect my brother, even if it kills me. Even if he ends up hating me for this! Wordlessly, America reached out to the countertop to his left. There, next to the sink, was a beautiful Italian vase, clearly one of Feliciano’s works. It was solid, and heavy. America picked it up in his free hand, Canada still holding his other.  
But of course, now Matthew was looking very, very worried.  
“Al? What’re you doing?”  
And of course, never dreaming that his beloved brother would ever attack him, he really just stood there as Alfred rushed forward. With a quick solid CRACK, America smashed the vase over the top of Matthew’s head.  
Prepared, Alfred dropped the vase and held out his arms as his little brother crumpled into them. Catching him with ease, he pulled him in, holding his limp body to himself.  
“I’m so sorry bro…you guys left me no choice. I…I can’t let you go to that place.” Knowing exactly what it was he had to do, Alfred quickly got to work. Laying his brother down on the floor and not knowing how much time he had before someone came to check on them, he started to undress Canada. They had to switch clothes for this to work. They had to trade places. They had to switch everything that they were.  
Once Matt was nearly naked (he left his underwear on. Who the hell wanted to wear their brother’s underwear? Ew,) he started to undress himself too. Once he was also bare, he started to put on Canada’s pajamas.  
Damn it…I’m going to have to go get dressed as him before we can even leave! And of course, he wanted to get out of there as fast as possible to lower the chances of getting caught.  
Matthew’s pajamas were a little tight on him…but he didn’t think anyone would really pay attention to that. Once he was dressed, he knelt down to his unconscious brother. Moving quickly, he dressed him in his own American PJ’s.  
The clothes were the easy part. With that done, Alfred moved to the mirror. He had to get his hair right. Throwing open the bathroom drawers, he hurriedly started looking for hair products. Being in Germany and Italy’s house, he had no trouble finding some. Grabbing a can of hairspray, he quickly reached up to his telltale hair thoink that always stuck straight up by his bangs. Holding it down, he liberally sprayed it in place.  
Already feeling like he could really pull this off, he then looked around the bathroom for a way to make his hair a bit wavier, like Matthews. He found what he needed in Italy’s drawer.  
“Why the hell does he have a curling iron?” But America only shrugged. Feliciano was a pretty, girly country; who knew what he did with the curling iron.  
Only a few moments later, America had the affect he wanted. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked almost perfect. The only difference now was…  
“Oh! Glasses!” Quickly, he took his off, and then traded them with his brother. They both had the same prescription; the only difference was the frames.  
“Sorry Matt…” he winced again in gazing at his unconscious brother. Then of course, he had to start getting to work on Canada too. Again, thanks to Italy, he was able to straighten Matthew’s hair with a hair straightener, and with more hairspray, he was able to duplicate his usual thoink.  
Stepping back, he admired his handy work.  
This might actually work… He prayed that it did. God knew what Britain would do to him if he found out before he was able to leave for Russia. And more importantly…they’d make Matthew go…  
I have to make this work. His brother’s life on the line, he knew that the most important part of his plan was tied in to acting. Acting was always hard for him, because he liked himself so much. He liked who he was and he loved being himself. But…if it was for Matthew…he knew he had to pull it off.  
I can totally be Canada, he thought. Be Canada! Placing the vase back on the countertop, and putting away all the hair products, he made sure all the evidence was hidden. Then, he bent down and scooped Canada, who now looked like America, back up into his arms. Stepping out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, he headed for the bed. Carefully, he laid his brother down in it.  
For a moment, he stayed with him. He already felt bad about the headache he would undoubtedly have when he awoke. But…it would be worth it. Gently, he reached out, touching his cheek instead of his hair, since he didn’t want to mess up the styling job he’d just done.  
“Bro,” he whispered, in case any of the other countries were out in the hall. “Bro…I’m really sorry. But…I’m going to take care of all this. Remember September Eleventh?” He smiled sorely, the memory of it still very painful and recent. “Well it’s my turn to take care of you, ok? Please forgive me for hitting you…”  
Leaning down, he kissed his forehead. Then, standing back up, he faced the doorway before him. He was ready. He was ready to be Canada. Going to the door, he grabbed the handle, and then stepped out and into the hall.


	18. I'm Canada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can America pass as a gentle Canadian?

Chapter 18  
I’m Canada!

America navigated back to Prussia’s room with relative ease. Gilbert had gone to reassure his own brother of the things that were about to come. They had gone over plan details and Germany had gone to the front of the house to talk to Britain. As such, America was able to change once more into Canada's everyday clothes without drawing any attention to himself.  
When Prussia came back to his room he found Canada facing away from him. Prussia hadn't seen America emerge from his room, and he had heard nothing else out of the room the super power was staying in, maybe America had boarded himself up in the room.  
"Birdie. Is unawezome ok? Were you able to calm him down?" Gilbert walked over to his boyfriend gently coming up from behind and wrapping his arms comfortingly around his shoulders, "He doezn’t need to worry. I will protect you. Ok?"

America instinctively stiffened when he felt the arms of another man wrap around him. And not just any other man…but Prussia. As usual, he hadn’t thought his plan entirely through. He wasn’t very good with details. And he’d been in such a huge panic that he hadn’t even stopped to consider that although, yes, he was posing as his brother, this also meant posing as Gilbert’s boyfriend.  
Oh-My-God! He tried to stifle himself and get his heebie-jeebies under control and as quickly as possible. But it was hard. His skin started to crawl. Unlike his little brother, he simply didn’t swing that way.  
It doesn’t matter! He quickly told himself. I have to pull this off! Matthew’s life depends on it! It’s so stupidly important! Suck it up man!  
It was show time, and America knew it didn’t matter how uncomfortable he may have been, this was something he simply had to do. As he’d thought to himself countless times since the disaster with future America back in November…he’d do anything for Matthew. He’d die for him. And so…he could do this too.  
Ok, calm down, speak softly, and answer Prussia casually…the way Matt might… Clearing his throat, he felt lucky that at least his and Matthew’s voices were similar. Their only major difference was volume.  
“…Alfred will be fine…” And America was amazed at how weird it was to say his own name…and at the fact that he could speak so softly. He couldn’t remember if he ever had before in all his life. “…he’s just upset…he’ll feel better after he gets to rush in and save the day, eh?” America sighed with relief. He’d been worried about how his Canadian accent would come out. But he supposed living with Matthew for so long made it rather easy to intimidate.  
It’s working.  
“Should we get going?”

Prussia held onto the man he assumed was his boyfriend for a moment longer.  
"Ja. We need to get going." He leaned in kissing America on the cheek. He took the disguised twin’s hand in his own and started to the front of the house where all of the other countries were already preparing to move out.

America had cringed, simply writhing inside when Gilbert kissed his cheek. But…he somehow kept everything off his face outwardly.  
Jesus! I’m going to need a bath in boiling lava when I’m done with this! Allowing Prussia to take his hand, he followed him out into the living room.

Britain looked up at Canada when he entered the room, but when he laid his eyes on Matthew, he was surprised when Canada quickly looked away from him. Maybe Canada was still unhappy with him as well for what had happened at the world meeting? He sighed and quickly turned his eyes away from what he thought was his younger son. He didn't look at the Canadian again as he began to speak.  
"Is America still in his room? Is he not coming out to see you off? The manners of that child!" Britain looked like he was going to go storm into America's room and get his AWOL son. Panic flared up in America’s chest. Even though Matthew now looked like him, Britain would clearly know something was wrong when he wouldn’t be able to wake him up. Quickly, America pulled away from Prussia and instead reached out, grabbing onto Britain…perhaps a bit too harshly for what Canada’s strength should have been.  
“No wait!” And he said that a bit too loudly too. Catching himself, he cleared his throat…then carefully released Britain. Trying to look embarrassed with his ‘show of force’ he glanced to the floor.  
“Ehh…I just…um…” He fumbled. Come on man! Get it together! Lifting his head, he faced Arthur, then got a quick idea that might help smooth everything over.  
“America…America was really upset. So umm…he…wanted to take some cold medicine to help him sleep. Er…uh…he…didn’t want me to tell you…but uh…I watched him down a good bit of it. I think…I think he’ll be out cold for a while…”  
Great. I just made myself sound like a super pansy-ass wimp! He withered a little bit inside. But again…he knew he had to make a lot of sacrifices for Matthew now that he’d decided on switching places with him.  
“We already said our goodbyes…it’s ok Britain.”

Britain stopped trying to go into America's room. He turned to look at the son he thought was Canada and accepted his words, "All right then. If you're sure. I know this is hard on him right now, but it will be over with soon. We will all be on a plane in a few hours. We'll use the tracker Gilbert has and we'll follow behind you. We wanted to go on the plane with you, but we're afraid Ivan may put a special hold on the plane until the passengers are all searched through. Don't worry Matthew. It's only going to be for a couple of hours." Britain held out his arms for his younger son, "I will see you soon. Ok?  
France blew past Britain knocking him aside and ran to crush Matthew in his arms. In his French way, kissed his son and squeezed Canada's imposter.  
"Mon petit Mattheiu! We are coming soon. ‘ave no worry, Papa will come save you."  
Gilbert never liked Matthew being near his old friend, so he quickly tried to pull Canada away from France.  
"Well look at ze time. We should go."

Alfred cringed all over again as France, of all people, touched him. He hated France. He was way too grabby. And way too perverted for his liking. Usually, this was when instinct would kick in, and he would punch, or elbow the other country in the face. But…Matthew usually allowed France to hug him, so he didn’t lash out as he wanted to.  
Dear God! How does Matt live like this every day? Everyone’s always touching him! Alfred knew his twin was more comfortable with touch than he was, but still! There had to be some limit!  
Gilbert then came over to rescue him, and America was thankful. He really couldn’t figure out how else to get away from Francis without blowing his cover. Gilbert grabbed onto his hand and pulled him away and toward the door. They were getting ready to leave when America spotted Germany.  
He stood near the back of the room, leaning up against one of the walls. Away from all the fuss and attention, he kept to himself, arms crossed, head held high. All the same, America immediately knew why he was keeping away from the others. He could see his insecurities on his face.  
He’s scared, Alfred thought. He felt guilty then. He may have fought with Germany, viciously only the day before…but he understood his position. He’d not only lost his lover…but now his brother was being sent away too. America had to sympathize. Look at the lengths I’ve gone through for Matthew. I bet…I bet he would have done the same if he could.  
Seeing the anxiety on the chiseled nations face wasn’t easy when Alfred looked at him as a brother rather than a nation who was in the way of his goal of keeping Matt safe. Perhaps it was the fact that he was personifying Canada at the moment that made him feel a little more sensitive. But whatever the reason, he knew they couldn’t leave just yet.  
“Gilbert,” America said. “Go say goodbye to your brother. I think he needs you.” And America wouldn’t have realized it. But it was the most Matthew-like thing he ever could have said at such a moment. 

Gilbert turned as his fake boyfriend spoke to him. He stared at the would-be Canada then slowly his eyes went to his brother. Gilbert had seen the anxiousness in Ludwig. He'd just been trying to avoid his brother in front of the group. He knew that his brother was not the sentimental type, and Prussia wasn't trying to show himself any more than he already had the last day or so. He'd been an emotional train wreck because of that asshole ice nation.  
Prussia frowned as he stared at his tense little brother. Standing like a stone wall. He'd always been that way since he'd been a child. He'd always been cool, calm, and collected in the presence of others. There had been very few moments when his brother let his emotions bubble to the surface and show through. Prussia couldn't blame him for the way he acted though. It was something Germany had most likely learned from his older brother. He too, generally, hid his actual emotions. Although he hid them behind a mask of arrogance and loud words.  
After being lost in thought for a moment Prussia pulled away from his would-be boyfriend and walked over to his brother. Unfortunately for America it gave France a chance to move back in and hold his son again. Britain soon moved to intervene and tried tugging the would-be Canadian away from France.  
With the other nations occupied Prussia stood in front of his younger brother and gently reached out placing his hand on Germany's blond head. He had to reach up for the move to be effective. He remembered back when Germany had been shorter than him. Those had been the wonder years.  
"Kseksekse." Prussia found himself laughing as he roughed up his brother's normally perfect hair. The act brought him amusement, and he grinned, "Mach dir keine Sorgen Bruder. Ich bin unbesiegbar, nicht wahr?" (Don't worry brother. I am invincible, right?)  
"Ludwig. I willz get Italy home to you. Ok?" He kept his hand on his brother's head, "I promize. You promize to protect unawezome. He'z havingz the tough time with Matthew coming with me. You are ztrong brother. Make theze misfits ztrong too." He motioned over his shoulder where once again Britain and France had fallen off into bickering over France clinging to Matthew like he was some toy.

Germany smiled at his big brother, but in his usual German way, which was of course, not much at all. Still, it would be enough for Prussia to see. He nodded firmly.  
“I know you vill,” he said. “Tied to land or not, you’re still zee most fearsome nation on dis earth. You’ll bring Italy home…” Never having been the touchy-feely type, he didn’t reach out to make any sort of contact with his brother. But he didn’t really have to. Prussia knew him well enough to see that this was his type of goodbye.  
“I’ll vhip dese Europeans into shape for you, unt I’ll vatch over Amerika. You just try not to get into any fights vith Russia, at least not until I have a chance to arrive. Ve can beat zee schiss out of him together!” Holding up a rock solid fist, he let his brother see. His meager German smile grew a tad, and that was really the largest it could get…unless Italy was around.  
“Now go. Canada needz you too.” Germany lifted a hand, pointing, and when Prussia looked over, he’d find poor America-Canada once again back in France’s arms, Britain yelling at France to let him go. Canada looked a bit ill, his face an unhappy gray as France’s hands, were as always, ever moving. America just wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Being molested hadn’t been part of his plan.

Gilbert looked at his brother’s outstretched fist. He smacked his own fist into his brother’s and then went across the room to rescue his pale boyfriend. He yanked America away from France in one solid motion and headed to the door. With a final wave, Gilbert and the disguised American walked out of the door.

Britain, France, and Germany had 4 hours of waiting to do before they had to get ready to leave. The plans had been hatched. The strategies for rescuing the two nations who had left had been lain. All there was to do was to wait. Two hours into the waiting game and Britain found himself quickly becoming frustrated. Britain sat on the couch sipping tea and occasionally talking to Germany, but the English gentleman was ignoring Francis who sat next to him acting in a bothersome way.  
“Frog. I swear if you don’t stop touching me I will hurt you.” Britain felt himself twitch as France grabbed his arm like a leech. He was luckily saved when he heard a door open. Britain hopped up from the couch. He was eager to take the opportunity to get away from France, and he was also worried about his son who had been sleeping since his brother had left. Britain turned to the hallway, “America. You are finally up!” Britain’s eyes widened as he saw his son leaning unsteadily against the hallway wall and holding his head with a pained look on his face.  
Britain placed his tea cup on the table and ran to his son’s side, “America. How much of that sleep medicine did you take?” He immediately became alarmed when he reached his son’s side and placed his hands on the would-be Alfred’s shoulders, “Alfred, are you ok?”  
Canada blinked as Britain placed his hands on his shoulders and called him by the wrong name.  
“Britain?” He said in a quiet voice, far too quiet for America, “Wha- are you talking about?”  
“America?” Britain studied his son’s face. The kid was acting strange. Britain had never heard America speak with such a quiet voice, “Are you ok lad?”  
By this time the other countries were starting to become curious as well. France found himself getting up and off the couch, coming over towards the pair.  
Canada shook his head but immediately regretted the action. His head was still aching, and he was suddenly very glad that Britain was holding him by his shoulders and keeping him steady. When the room stopped swaying, Canada looked into his father’s eyes with a tinge of grief, “Why are you doing that again? I’m Canada….”  
Britain’s eyes enlarged as he stared at his son, “Wh-what?” He cried in befuddlement not expecting that answer, “How much of that sleep aid medicine did you take!?”  
“Sacre Blu!” France cried, “America has been traumatized!”

Matthew stared at his two fathers, feeling very confused indeed. Why were they calling him America? After everything that had happened since Alfred’s November dooms day prophecy, couldn’t they at least recognize him as Canada? He had been sure those days of confusion had been over. His head was still swimming, and he still hadn’t taken note that he was wearing his brother’s pajamas.  
Germany stepped forward to get a closer look, but continued to hang back a bit behind the two European nations. They were America’s fathers after all, and they would be better at comforting the clearly traumatized nation than Germany would be. But…did he really think he was Canada? It seemed strange, even for someone who might have been emotionally compromised. Germany crossed his arms over his chest, and watched silently.  
Matthew rubbed the back of his head. His skull was throbbing.  
“Ugh…” he groaned in discomfort. He had a piercing headache, and there was a huge knot on his head. Blinking and looking around, he didn’t see Gilbert or Alfred.  
“Wh…where are Alfred and Gilbert? What time is it? Shouldn’t we be getting ready to leave for the airport?” He winced again as he took a step forward, pain piercing his brain.  
“Ugh!” 

Having raised the two boys Britain knew that if one of them made a fuss about being in pain then it was serious. Especially America. The kid had always been rough and tumble and he never let pain slow him down. His eyes immediately zoned in on America’s hand. America was clutching his head.  
“Alfred, love. What’s the matter?” He always tended to be gentler when his former colonies were injured. He stepped closer to his son’s side and reached up gently with one hand. He pulled the fake America’s hand away so he could inspect the area that his former colony was clutching. It was when Britain placed his hand on America’s golden locks that he felt a few things out of place. Why was some sort of hair gel in his son’s hair? America didn’t use hair gel. Not on his natural hair anyway…. Gently Britain’s hands brushed the lump on his son’s head. Britain immediately withdrew his hand when Canada cried out in pain and went to clutch his head once more.  
“Oh my God! What in the bloody hell happened to your head? Alfred! What happened? Matthew said you were sleeping! What did you do to your head?”  
Britain’s mind whirled into action. At first he’d had a horrible feeling that Alfred had hurt himself, but then his brain kicked into gear. Hair gel. Strange acting Canada. Strange acting America. Canada’s outburst earlier. America sounding just like his younger brother…Britain’s emerald eyes widened as his mind started to overload with panic.  
“Oh my God!” Britain reached up placing his hands on either side of the would-be America’s face. He smashed his son’s face in his hands and suddenly realized some subtle differences that were missing from his hard-headed son. Slightly skinnier, calmer with the way Britain was obtrusively studying him, and he hadn’t even told him to back off. Britain made his son look at him as he continued to inspect him, “Oh my God!” He reached up gently touching the center of Matthew’s forehead just at his hair line. He reached up touching the piece of hair that had always been unique to the Southern twin. That’s when he realized how much hair gel was in his son’s hair. Even so, when Britain touched the skyward piece of hair, it fell over because it was so out of place.  
There was a second more of frantic searching through his son’s hair. Even while he worked Britain started laughing nervously as realization started to come to him. As his hands moved through his son’s hair Britain brushed by that curly strand Matthew had always had. When it was moved by an outside force the hair gel couldn’t hold it back any longer. The piece of hair sprung back to life and with it Britain’s skin went white. He slowly started to shake with horror.  
“Matthew! You are Matthew! Oh my God! What was he thinking?”

Matthew, with all the fuss his father was making, and by following what he’d been saying, started to piece it together himself. Blinking, and finally coming back to his senses a bit, his blue-violet eyes widened. It was then that he finally remembered what had happened with his brother. Flashing back, he saw America’s panic stricken face. He saw his tears; he saw the complete terror in his eyes. He remembered how he begged him, simply begged him not to go to Russia.  
Oh mon deiu! He thought, his chest starting to tighten with fear. He didn’t…he…couldn’t have! But Canada knew he had. And looking back on how things had been progressing between him and his brother, it suddenly became no surprise that America would have done something so crazy. Canada had seen the signs. Alfred never hid anything. He had been out in the open with his growing affections for his little brother, it wasn’t a mystery to as why this had happened. In fact, looking back, Matthew could remember dozens of instances where America expressed a need to be a big brother, to take care of Canada, to protect him.  
I’ll protect you bro.  
Leave it to me!  
This is MY little brother! No one messes with him without answering to me!  
I’ll take care of it Matt!  
Don’t worry, America’s got your back!  
That’s how I take care of Matthew.  
Don’t go! You can’t go! You’ll die!  
I’ll go in your place!  
Canada felt his chest constrict. How could I have not seen this? He wondered. He was so desperate…I…I’ve never seen him so upset in all my life! And then…Matthew remembered Alfred’s face as he coolly reached for a vase on the bathroom counter. That look he’d had in his blue eyes. He had the look of a country that would have done anything, anything at all to protect what was important to him.  
“Maple!” Canada suddenly cried in distress. “This is all my fault! I…I knew Alfred was upset! I knew all about the nightmares he’s been having. He…he probably felt cornered…” Looking to Britain, Matthew knew he’d have to tell him the truth of what happened, so that if there was any hope of fixing it at all, they could.  
“When we were in the bathroom. He was so hysterical. When I told him I was going to go. He…he uh…” But poor Matthew still looked like he was in disbelief. “He…hit me over the head with a vase.”  
Matthew looked down at himself taking in his appearance for the first time, “He…must have switched our clothes.”  
The situation was bad enough as it was, but it somehow managed to get worse. Some very quick, very shallow, very loud breathing rose behind Britain, France and Canada. And when they turned to look, they found Germany, appearing completely panic-stricken. He’d grown pale all over again as he had appeared the day they arrived. Sweating ice, he lifted a gloved hand to cover his face to try and get himself under control, but it was impossible.  
All he could think about now was Italy and Gilbert.  
If Russia found out he had America instead of Canada, surely he would feel he was betrayed or that they were setting up a trap for him…which they were. And if he found that out…he would send a message for certain. He would make it very, painfully, clear that he was not to be trifled with, that there were consequences for not following his instructions. He would hurt Feliciano or Gilbert. Or both of them. Germany could hardly stand the idea of his little Italy being in pain…but perhaps even worse…was that Gilbert could actually die.  
Did Russia even know how fragile Gilbert was? If he just wanted to rough him up…he could end up killing him completely by mistake.  
And so, his breathing came quickly, and fiercely. Terrified for his partner and his brother, his entire family suddenly in jeopardy, it was mostly all he could do to just stand there and try not to completely flip out, even as the other countries looked to him.  
But of course, Gilbert and Feliciano weren’t the only countries in danger now. Matthew looked to his fathers, terror in his young eyes.  
“Alfred!” He cried. “Alfred’s the one that Russia is really after right? He only wanted me in order to get at him! And now…he…he already has him!” He looked pleadingly at his fathers. “We have to do something. If we don’t, Alfred will be…” But he couldn’t even finish his thought. It was too horrific to imagine. 

Britain suddenly felt a laugh escaping his lips. A fear filled, hallow laugh came bubbling from him. The situation was too outlandish. It could not be happening. He refused to believe it could happen. He refused to believe America could be so daft. The whole point was to keep everyone safe. Seeing as Canada wasn’t the true focus of Russia’s anger he had a better chance of just being a prisoner. They would most likely have pulled off the rescue without incidence, but now… Now Alfred was heading right into his enemy’s clutches. What was worse. How long would Alfred be able to keep up his farce in front of Russia? What if he blew his cover right when he arrived? What if Russia discovered that he’d been double crossed?  
That’s when Britain heard Germany’s breathing pick up. He looked towards the German nation with pity. Germany had so much to lose. Out of all of them Gilbert was the only one that could die at the moment. Thinking of his son in Russia’s clutches was terrifying to the English gentleman but at least Alfred couldn’t die permanently, as long as his nation was in existence.  
“Bollucks!” Britain cried out into the air. Alfred had been a main component to their rescue plan as well. They were counting on his strength added to their numbers. It shifted the balance of power in the rescue party. Britain steeled himself as he took charge of the fiasco, “Matthew! You are taking your brother’s spot on the rescue team. We are going to go get them all back. We’ll have to move quickly. I doubt Alfred will be able to hold out this charade for very long. Especially around Russia, so we have to get to them quickly.”

America could put up with a lot. He could put up with an indecisive congress, who never got anything done until the last possible second. He could put up with the pressures of a constantly approaching fiscal cliff. He could put up with recessions, depressions, wars and droughts. But something he’d never been very good at putting up with…was an over excessive amount of unwanted touch.  
And man, he was at his limit.  
Gilbert seemed to be all over him during every second of his trip. He had his arm around him in the cab. He leaned in, snuggling, and trying to steal a few kisses as they sat together. In the airport, he held his hand the entire time they walked to their gate. Then, once seated, he proceeded to hug all over again. When America excused himself to go to the bathroom, Prussia had gone with him, destroying his plan to get some alone time for at least a few minutes!  
Then, he was even worse when they got on the plane. Sitting down near the back, the two of them were relatively alone. Not many other people were traveling to Russia two days after Christmas. Thinking they had relative privacy, Prussia moved in again!  
Oh my God! He’s a fucking horn dog! America thought in horror as he tried to shrink away from him all over again. How do I keep him off of me without blowing my cover? America knew how important it was that he remain undercover. He had to keep on being Canada until the rescue party arrived. But Gilbert was making it so difficult!  
The pushy nation’s arm was around his shoulders again, his other hand moving to his thigh. America, already a beat-red, honestly didn’t know how far he could be pushed without freaking out. His skin was crawling all over again, and suddenly…he felt like he was cheating on Mexico…  
Slightly queasy, and he was sure it wasn’t from the plane ride, even though they were hitting some turbulence, he quickly lifted a hand in defense just in time before Gilbert leaned in for a kiss on his lips. Instead, the white-haired country’s face ended up in his palm.  
“Gilbert please…” he said, trying his best to be quiet, and sound rather shy and embarrassed rather than angry. Just how grabby was Prussia with his little brother in public anyway? “Gilbert…I…I’m just not in the mood, ok? I’m sorry…”  
Please let that work. Please go away! Just stop touching me! America thought in desperation. 

Gilbert watched as his boyfriend shrugged away from him for what must have been the umpteenth time that day. With a heavy sigh he leaned back in his seat but continued to look over at his boyfriend.  
“Whatz the matter? You have been acting strange sinze we left.”  
His boyfriend was usually embarrassed by Prussia’s public display of affection, but the Northern twin wasn’t acting like he should have been. When Matthew reached his limit of Prussia’s affections he’d get that… look. The look. Prussia thought with a shudder. He wasn’t usually blown off by his boyfriend this way.  
“But Matthew we may not see each other after we get to Russia. I just want to support you.” He smirked cockily in his Prussian way, “Bezidez. You said you liked it when I hold you! You said I was awezome! Remember last week?” He reached jabbing America in the ribs, “Last week you said I was awezome in bed.” He snickered at his own words and then looked back over at his boyfriend with a cocky smirk. He suddenly reached out grabbing a hold of a stunned American's face. America had been frozen by Prussia’s words. In that moment, with a quick movement Prussia finally succeeded in landing his lips on his boyfriend’s.

That had been it. America reacted quite instinctively, and quite reflexively. Hardly even being able to help it, he lashed out, clocking poor Prussia right in his nose. And being as strong as a country as he was, he’d managed to do some damage too.  
“Damn it dude! How many times I gotta tell ya to keep your damn hands off of me! Jesus! How grabby-grabby are you anyway?”  
Of course, immediately after his outburst…he knew he’d really blown it. He froze, fist still in the air from his attack. His left eye twitched.  
“Uh…errr…I mean…” But there was no saving it at that point. He’d dropped the Canadian accent and had picked up his own for his little outburst, and his violence and strength were more than enough to give him away too.  
“Shit…” he mumbled.

Gilbert fell back in his seat. His eyes squinting shut in pain from the punch. He immediately felt moisture coming from his nostrils, but his hands blocked it at the base of his nose. Then he heard that unmistakable voice. Prussia's red eyes widened with horror as he stared out at America in shock. There were suddenly a lot of things to be shocked by. Shock at suddenly realizing he’d kissed America a second twice in one day. That was the most horrifying thing. Then the added shock that the plan was now blown to hell.  
"UNAWEZOME?!" He screamed out loud.

America sighed. He knew there was really no way to keep the act up now.  
“Yeah…but…keep it down man. We don’t know who’s on this plane…” He glanced around nervously, wary of any spies Russia might have on them. Luckily, the nearest person to them was four rows up, and he didn’t seem to be paying them any attention.  
“Look, dude, I had to do this, ok? There was no way in hell I was sending Matt to Russia. It’ll work. We just have to keep up the act. Russia certainly won’t know the difference. He hardly knows Matt the way you and I do. If I just sit pretty for him for a few hours, the rescue team will come. And this way…if he ever had an urge to rough up Matt…well…I can take it easy. No problems there. But Matt? Dude, you know how he is.”  
And it was probably strange for Prussia to see America being so suddenly serious about something. He joked around about everything. But…seemingly, not this time.  
“It’ll be fine. I need you to have my back on this, ok? We only need to trick him for a few hours. I can do that. This way, no one gets hurt, especially not my little bro!”

Prussia just continued to stare. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Where is my boyfriend? He thought to himself. Matthew would have never agreed to this.  
Gilbert shot an angry glare America's way. He glanced around the plane making sure no one was looking at them. Then he raised his balled fist and smacked America right on the top of his head. It by no means would hurt him, but the blow let Gilbert get out his frustrations. He leaned over once more towards America and kept his voice low so no one else could hear.  
"What did you do to my boyfriend!" He hush whispered. "Matthew would have never let you agree to this Blödmann (dumbass)! Russia is doing all this to get at you! You moron! What do you thinkz he'll do if he realizez you came right to him? Matthew waz doing this to protect you!"  
America let Gilbert hit him. It didn’t really hurt, and he knew the other nation was really upset and worried. But that was until he started talking.  
Gilbert watched as America’s face paled ever so slightly. But very quickly, a grin came over his stupid lips.  
“Haha! I’d forgotten about that!” He chuckled as he lifted a hand to rub at the spot on his head where he’d been hit. Truly…he had indeed completely forgotten that the whole reason Russia had wanted Canada in the first place was to get at America; a country he’d decided was too strong to go after directly. That was why he was picking on all the other weaker countries around him, like Italy and Canada.  
“Whoopsie!” America chuckled again. He saw Prussia’s eye twitch and quickly he struggled to recover. Lifting his hands he waved them in defense.  
“Really though dude, I…I would have done this anyway. I meant what I said. I’d never let Matt go to Russia, especially if it was for me. That’s not cool. Big bro’s don’t let little bro’s do things like that.”  
And that of course, was a truth that was easy to see on the easily read nation’s face. Even if he was a bit more nervous about his plan now, it was clear as day to tell that he still wouldn’t have had it any other way. Had he remembered that he was Russia’s intended target, perhaps it would have even made him more eager to take his twins place. He had never been the type of country to sacrifice others for his own safety. In fact, he more or less tended to head straight on into danger, no matter how ridiculous his odds of coming out unscathed were. Fortunately for America, he seemed to win almost every single conflict he’d ever decided to participate in.  
There were a rare handful, of course, that he came out the wrong end of, but he could count them on one hand. It was a damned good track record considering the nations two hundred year history and how frequently he ended up in battle.  
But…one of those lost battles had been the war against Russia in the 1920’s. And America couldn’t help but to think of it then. It was one of the only times in his history that he hadn’t won against an opponent, but instead, had been forced to withdraw.  
He’s strong…he thought woefully. Stronger than I give him credit for. But perhaps, that was only another reason for him to go instead of Canada. He certainly didn’t want his little brother anywhere near that monster.

Prussia scoffed at America's words, "Matthew is always doing what he can to protect you unawezome. That's what brother's do. It iz not zomething you can change."  
Prussia heard the pilot come over the loudspeaker and announce that they were landing soon. As Prussia buckled his seat belt once more he struggled to stop his nose from bleeding. Whatever the plan might have been they were going to just have to roll with the change of cast members as best they could, "Well, there iz no turning back now." He said as the plane shuttered as it came in for a landing.


	19. Encased in Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Psychological Torture

Chapter 19  
Encased in Ice

 

They disembarked and were greeted as soon as they stepped off of the terminal. Russia stood smiling at the carousel where luggage was being unloaded from the plane. When he saw the two nations approaching Russia waved with a happy smile.  
"Comrade Gilbert. Comrade Matvey. I have been looking forward to your visit. I have not seen you in the ages."  
Prussia simply shot a look Russia's way that said, of course not you ass.  
Russia turned his eyes from Prussia to the disguised American. Prussia’s face immediately soured. He stepped in front of America blocking Russia's line of sight to him. It was more of a reflex, but Prussia didn’t want Russia to examine the fake Canadian too hard. He stood his ground when Russia came to stand straight in front of him. He grew immediately angry when Russia reached out and tried to move him aside, but a quick word from his fake boyfriend helped his nerves loosen and convinced Prussia to step aside peacefully. The three personas stood in a little triangular formation, and Russia smiled at America.  
"Comrade Matvey, it is good to see you again. It has been far too long since you visited my home. You used to come over with much more frequency."  
Prussia was confused by the words, and he shot a look at the fake Canada. Gilbert was trying to figure out when his boyfriend had been to Russia, but it wasn't like America could answer that question. He was instantly curious. When and why had Matthew been at Russia's house? Had America known about it?

Alfred immediately broke out into a sweat. His blue eyes flickered briefly to Gilbert to read his face and see if he knew anything about this, but Gilbert appeared as clueless as Alfred was.  
Is this true? He wondered. There’s no way Russia could know who I am already. So…it has to be true. But then…if it is…why the hell would Matthew be visiting Russia? Perplexed, but knowing well enough that he shouldn’t ask any questions, he decided he’d better just play along.  
“Uh…y…yes,” he stuttered. But really, looking nervous and stuttering would have been natural for Matthew in this situation anyway. He was fully aware that he was being used as some sort of bait for America…had it been Canada anyway.  
“Wh…when we get to your house, you’ll let Italy go, right?” Another normal thing for Canada to ask.  
It’s ok. We’re doing well, he thought.

"Matvey. You still like cooking, da? I prepared things for your arrival. I am sorry about world meeting, da." He took America’s wrist and started to lead him from the airport. It left Prussia to grab both bags and try and catch up. When Prussia was forced to leave their side, Russia dragged America off towards their final destination. His smile only growing as they walked.  
"Matvey. You want to become one with mother Russia, da?" Russia made the statement nonchalantly.

America couldn’t help it, he was starting to get a little scared already, and they hadn’t even made it to Russia’s house yet. How would Russia know that Matt liked to cook? Had he been stalking his little brother or spying on him? Or had Matthew really gone to visit him frequently in the past?  
He would never do that! Russia and I have been enemies for as long as I can remember. Matthew wouldn’t just…just…go over to his house and cook food! That’s ridiculous! Russia must have been spying on him. Knowing the safest thing to do was just be quiet, since Matt was normally a quiet country, Alfred didn’t say anything…until that crack about becoming one with mother Russia. There was a quick spike of fear when he couldn’t determine if Russia was joking or not.  
“I…n…no!” He quickly objected. He started sweating a bit more heavily than he had been. Ok, keep cool. Be Canada. Everything’s fine. He at least seems to somewhat like Matt…as creepy as that is, I’ll be safe until the other countries arrive. He glanced over his shoulder, nervous that Gilbert was being left behind, Prussia had the tracker on him…not himself. They needed to plant it somewhere in or around Russia’s house so the others would know where to go.  
“Russia…you know I can’t do that…” America said in his best Canadian voice. “And uh…shouldn’t we wait for Prussia? He’s getting the bags…” That’s good. Keep up that Canadian accent. 

Russia stopped suddenly, and it caused America to run straight into his back, "You always say no Matvey, but you and I were never so different. There were times vhen you trusted me more than your brother, da?"  
Russia slowly turned around. His aura seemed to get creepier with every passing second. He reached out his ice cold hands and placed them on the other nation’s shoulders.  
He shot a look back at Prussia who was carrying the bags then his eyes went back to the nation in his hands, "That is not a problem, Comrade Matvey. He is a ghost nation, da? He has no say in world matters as they are right now. This is vhy I wanted to talk to you."  
Russia's voice trailed off as his smile grew once more. He squeezed America’s shoulders.  
"I still remember time when I helped you after Cuba.... Dhat was not good day for you, Matvey. Sorry I mention it, but I was curious. When I helped you back dhen your brother did not even notice when you do not show up for world meeting. No one noticed, remember?  
Why is it Matvey that your brother is watching you like a hawk now? I simply locked you in a room. You were very injured after Cuba mistook you for America dhat time. You were in bed for days. America never bashed Cuba's head into table over it.  
Vhy does he take sudden interest in you now? Vhy is he watching everything you do and vhy did he make such statements at world meeting? Tell me vhat has changed Comrade Matvey?"  
The intensity on Alfred's shoulders increased a fair amount as he spoke. Russia wanted an answer. The larger nation opened his eyes and stared into America's eyes with intensity as he waited for him to speak.  
Prussia was still making his way over and couldn't help America at the moment. He couldn't tell what was happening, but he could see the disguised American growing stiffer in Russia’s hands. What is going on? He thought to himself unhappily. He was a bit more than creeped out over how Russia was acting so familiar with his wouldbe boyfriend.

Alfred tried to remain calm. He tried really, really hard not to let Russia’s words get to him. But man…it felt like taking a knife in the gut every time the ice nation even opened his mouth.  
“There were times vhen you trusted me more than your brother.”  
“Your brother did not even notice when you do not show up for meetings…”  
“You were very injured after Cuba mistook you for America dhat time.”  
He winced. It hurt to hear. More than he would have thought. America hadn’t known anything about that business with Cuba. Back then…he hadn’t paid hardly any attention to Matthew at all. He’d been so busy with his own issues, and his own problems and successes and conflicts. So sadly…it was true. He hadn’t noticed when his brother had been hurt. And that made his innards twist in on themselves, because Matthew had always, without fail, been there for him every time he needed him.  
Alfred found himself thinking back to September Eleventh again. Probably because it was one of the most recent tragedies he’d suffered. Canada had helped him through and had taken care of him, nursing him until he was able to heal. He’d provided every comfort as he lay, struggling to even breathe. If it hadn’t been for Matthew…  
America’s chest started to hurt.  
No wonder he didn’t trust me…I…I can’t even blame him if he might have turned to Russia for a bit…he was probably so mad at me…  
Still, it felt like such a betrayal to hear of Matthew consorting with one of the worst enemies America had ever had. He still wasn’t even sure if it was true. All the same, it hardly mattered. Alfred was now stuck on the idea that Matthew had been hurt, injured by Cuba…and he hadn’t done a damned thing about it!  
How hurt had he been? If he was in bed for days…it must have been pretty awful. And America…hadn’t been there for him.  
He felt himself getting worked up. He felt his heart pick up pace. It would have reached his lungs, but he was very aware of the fact that he was standing right in front of Russia, and the ice nation’s deep purple eyes were resting on his every movement and facial expression. And so, he quickly tried to stifle his emotions. Now was not the time to be allowing guilt in. Now was not the time to be assessing all of his past sins against his little brother. Not here. Not in front of such a dangerous enemy.  
Pull yourself together! Sure, I’ve messed up in the past, but I’m here now! All I can do, is what I can do right now, in this moment! And right now, I’m going to protect my little brother. I’m going to do it right!  
But of course, once he steeled himself and collected his courage, he also recognized that Russia had asked him a question. He had asked why America had suddenly taken such an interest in Canada. What had changed between them?  
Obviously, he couldn’t tell him some wild story about future America. But…he could tell him part of the truth without putting anyone in danger. And with his usual determination back in his corner along with his well-known courage, he looked Russia right in the eye.  
“Alfred recently realized how he’s mistreated me,” he said, confessing his guilt right there to his enemies face. No one could say America wasn’t ballsy. “He had some crazy nightmare about me dying. Ever since then, he’s really turned a corner. He’s not perfect…but he’s been trying really hard to make things right...” He felt his cheeks grow warm suddenly. It was hard to talk about himself from his little brother’s point of view, especially to someone like Russia. But…he hoped at least, that it was something Matt would say about him.  
I know I already apologized…but I guess I might do it again when I get back home… he thought a bit woefully. I want to be a good brother… 

After the answer Russia released Canada and turned to walk once more towards the door of the airport. It had less to do with what America had said and more to do with Prussia finally reaching their side. As America just stood there Gilbert reached out placing his hand on Alfred's arm.  
"Hey what zee hell waz that?" He glared at Russia's back as the larger nation just kept walking. Prussia gazed at the fake Canadian who seemed to be dazed now that Russia's eyes weren't on him anymore. They would obviously all have to talk with Matthew when they got back to a safe haven with their loved ones, but with Russia acting so damn friendly with Canada their cover had an even larger chance of being blown. What were they supposed to do if Russia wanted Canada to cook or something for God’s sake?

Leaning in, America hurriedly hissed to Prussia.  
“He wanted to know why I’ve taken a sudden interest in Canada’s life,” he replied. But he didn’t say anymore, not wanting to get caught talking to Gilbert too long about things.  
“We’re just gunna have ta go with the flow, bro. Improv, you know?” Not really able to talk in length with one another, America and Prussia really had no choice but to follow Russia into a cab. But once seated, all three of them in the backseat, America tried once again to ask about Italy.  
“So…once we get to your house…and since you have me here now, you’ll let Italy go, like you promised…right?”

As the car moved down the road Russia remained silent once more on the topic of Italy. Instead of answering, Russia turned to look at Gilbert, "Comrade. How have you been?"  
"Ztuff it." Gilbert growled towards the other nation, “Answer his question.”  
Prussia was trying to hold his tongue, but he didn't have anything nice to say to Russia.  
Russia laughed at Gilbert's response, “You are the same as ever! Always quick with that tongue of yours. I am glad you are not dead Comrade. I have not seen you in so long, but I thought you were as good as dead when I left you in Germany that last time. You are very hard to kill." Prussia snickered at that. He shot a glare around America and at their host.  
"It takez a lot more than that to kill me."  
Russia's smile only grew, "We shall see, da?" With that he turned to look forward once more. The atmosphere in the cab was so thick that even America could have choked on it. The ride back to the castle of doom was taking forever. When they did arrive Prussia already looked a bit green before he ever stepped out of the cab. Russia got out of the car and left the door open for the others to follow. The chill from outside creeped in and threatened to freeze anything it touched.  
Russia waited patiently for his two house guests and soon they all went strolling up a set of stone stairs and through the front door. They once more asked about Italy, and Russia lead them through the grand living space and down a separate hallway. They had to go up a set of stairs and then came to a door with a lock on the outside. Russia went about unlocking the door. Once inside the room Prussia and America saw that Italy taped up tight. He was unharmed, but silver tape was wrapped around his wrists, ankles, and covering his mouth. Upon seeing him, Prussia went to Italy's side to assess him. He was about to remove the tape when Russia's voice piped up, "I wouldn't do that, da. He does not stop talking about food."  
Once again Russia's attention went to the nation he thought was Canada. "I finally got you back here. I do not think I can let Italy go just yet." He said with that smug smile on his face.

America was actually relieved about a few things. One, they’d made it to the house. This meant that their allies now knew where they were located and could come get them as soon as their plane landed in another few hours. Two, Italy seemed completely unharmed. Not necessarily happy…but he was clearly in one piece, and not only that, he appeared completely uninjured.  
America glanced Prussia’s way. He knew he didn’t need to be told to find a place to hide that bug. That way, it’d be less likely to be found since it wouldn’t be on any of their persons. America knew Prussia would need an opportunity to get out of Russia’s field of view though. They would deal with that later. For now, America wanted to address this business about Italy.  
“Why wouldn’t you be able to let him go? Aren’t Gilbert and I the people you wanted?” He played dumb. There wouldn’t be a reason for Canada to know that Russia was ultimately after his brother. Not yet anyway.  
Italy, bound and gagged, turned his deep brown eyes to Gilbert. He couldn’t move a muscle, considering he was restrained. The only thing he could really do was move his eyes. With them, he did a fairly expert job of pleading with Prussia to be untied.

"Oh. Zis is ridiculous!" Gilbert growled as he reached out to Italy and began to pull the tape off of the other nation's mouth. "I can’t zay that I blame you for taping him up but let him go already!" Prussia shot another glare back at Russia, but this time the lumbering country was not going to take it. Russia simply started walking towards Prussia. Once he reached him, Russia reached out with a vice like hand and grabbed Prussia’s left wrist yanking it forcibly away from Italy's taped mouth. The action at least dislodged the final bit of tape from Italy's mouth.  
Prussia turned to glare at Russia, but when he did Russia wrenched his arm at a very hard angle. He jerked his arm behind him and pinned it there causing Prussia to move awkwardly to keep the larger nation from breaking his bones. He cried out as Russia held him, but his situation was quickly causing him to become even angrier with Russia.  
"You zaid you would let him go! He can’t hurt you. He doezn't even know where he iz! Take him to the airport and zend him back!" Prussia yelled. Russia only twisted Gilbert's arm harder.  
"I cannot do that Comrade. You see. I need him here for a little bit longer. I had to test Germany and see vhat he would do. It seems your brother is very fond of Italy because you came here after all. I did not know if you would. I need one more thing from your brother, but Italy will be fine. Don't worry."

America broke out into a sweat all over again as Italy cried out when the tape was painfully ripped off. Then Gilbert cried out in pain when his arm was yanked so roughly behind him. America wanted to just throw himself in there and get into a good fist fight. Even with Italy and Prussia being rather useless…he thought he could win. But…  
…Canada wouldn’t do that.  
He would however, go to the aid of his boyfriend. Alfred knew that. Quickly, he hurried to Prussia and Russia’s side. Reaching out, he grabbed onto Russia’s arm. He tried to get him to release Gilbert, but without using too much force, or showing how much strength he really had.  
“That’s enough Russia! Leave Prussia alone!”

Russia held onto Gilbert's arm even after the fake Canadian grabbed him. Russia turned his attention to the blonde nation. In one smooth motion Russia shoved Gilbert down and onto the floor away from them both and turned to face America. He reached out snagging the blonde nation's wrist, hard. Russia stared into his eyes with the utmost seriousness, his smile fading away.  
"Matvey. I want you to join me. You were once here as my guest, da? You and I would make a great team. I would never be like your brother. I want you to become one with me, da? You would never have to worry about that ingrate again. It will not be long before he forgets all about you again. When you really need him he has never come through, so you should become one with me.  
You wouldn't have to ever deal with America again or the pain your family has caused you. I won’t even kill him if you don't want me to, da? I have a vonderful idea about what to do with him."  
Russia smiled at the fake Canadian. He dropped America's wrist and quickly reached out snagging America by the collar of his jacket. He pulled him in close. Way too close for Alfred's comfort. He stared into Alfred's eyes never blinking once, "We could be great."

The sweat came like bullets. His blue eyes widened with sudden dread. Was this what Russia had been planning all this time? To turn his little brother against him? To use Matthew to betray him, punish him? Did Russia think that Canada hated him so much as to not only betray him, but help him hurt him in some way? Was this some sort of revenge?  
Matt couldn’t have possibly have ever been that mad at me… he thought. We’re brothers. Family! Even if I was a shitty one…he never would have gone for something like this. Russia…Russia’s crazy! And of course, on top of that, America knew Matt wouldn’t let Gilbert be pushed around either. He loved Gilbert. Alfred had seen it on his face, or he never would have agreed to let the ex-nation date his little brother to begin with.  
Things were heating up, and getting quite tense. Russia’s firm grip was still like ice around his long coat. He was so close to Russia, he could feel the other nations breath on his face, and hearing the ice nation say ‘become one’ was seriously, tremendously creepy.  
Don’t freak out, don’t freak out! He told himself, even as he stared into those crazed, purple eyes. Russia was so eager, so hungry looking that it chilled him to his core. What would Matt do? Alfred glanced to Gilbert, lying on the floor behind his enemy, then he glanced to Italy.  
Matt wouldn’t do anything to hurt anyone. Ever. He knew this for certain. And he’d never ‘become one’ with this psycho!  
“Russia,” Alfred said, as calmly as he could. “Let me go. I’ve already told you no. I’m with Gilbert now.”  
The weight of the situation wasn’t lost on the Italian still tied to his chair. He whimpered quietly from his place. 

"Da!" Russia's smile only grew when the would-be Canada said he was with Gilbert. Everyone in the room knew the smile didn’t mean he’d taken the rejection well,  
"I know, but as I said. I will fix that problem soon enough. You are here Matvey. That is enough for now. I have plenty of plans for you.”  
Russia held onto America for only a second more. He released America, and Russia stepped back towards Prussia who was on the floor clutching his throbbing arm. Prussia was in the process of sitting up when Russia's foot came down on his chest and slammed him back into the floor, mercilessly, with a loud exhale Prussia was crushed against the floor. He lay on his back glaring up at Russia. Russia kept his foot on the smaller man's chest. He wasn’t the largest nation in the world for nothing. His weight alone was crushing, but it was obvious he meant to harm Prussia. His boot was pressed firmly against Prussia’s ribcage, and it kept air from making its way back into Gilbert's lungs. Watching Prussia suffocate was something Russia didn't seem to mind. Prussia reached up grabbing at Russia's foot, but he was in a losing situation. Russia had no idea the ghost nation wouldn't heal by the morning, so he held nothing back. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have taken pause. Prussia swore he heard something crack in his chest as Ivan put a very pinpointed weight onto his rib cage.  
Russia smiled as he held the weaker nation firmly in his hand, "Matvey. You will help me, da. Or he will have a very unpleasant stay here."

Italy and America both started to freak out, only in their different ways. Italy immediately began thrashing from his prison, struggling against his bonds. He tried to earnestly break free, but there really was no hope. He just wasn’t that strong.  
“Stop! A-stop it! Canada! You-a-hafta stop him! Gilbert! Gilbert will be-a-killed! Fare qualcosa! Please!” (Do something!)  
Italy knew if somebody didn't do something quick Germany's fear of losing his brother would soon be realized.  
America knew he had to act. He couldn’t sit back and let this happen. Matthew would be destroyed. Germany would be destroyed. And there were other nations that although not as attached...were still pretty fond of Prussia. Italy being one and...well...America was starting to really like him too. Prussia was working his way into his family, steadily, but surely. He was a good dude. And he didn’t deserve this. Matthew didn’t deserve this. There was no way he was going to go home without Gilbert. There was no way he was going to go home with a body and watch his brother crumble under the weight of grief and despair.  
No. No fucking way.  
America’s face changed. His blue eyes narrowed, his jaw set, and quite suddenly, he didn’t look like Canada anymore. He looked like he meant business. Serious business. And even in his disguise, with a battle-ready face like that on, there was no mistaking which twin he was. Without a word, he started forward, then quickly broke into a run.  
My cover’s going to be blow...I better go all out and see if I can’t take him down by myself without the others.  
He had the element of surprise on his side at least, and he used it fully to his advantage. Aiming for the back of Russia’s head, he hoped he could possibly knock him out and then get everybody out of there while he had the chance. Launching himself through the air, he reeled back his arm. Then he came down, hard. With as much force as he could possibly put behind his blow, he rammed his elbow down into the back of Russia’s skull like an ax.  
“You son of a bitch! Get your fucking foot off of him!” Of course, he at least managed to get Russia to stumble forward, forcing him off Gilbert. As Russia stumbled, America turned shouting at Prussia.  
“Gilbert! Get the hell outta here! Just go! I’ll take care of this!” Knowing he couldn’t let up now that he’d started something; he raced at Russia all over again, his usual spunk and steam powering him. Reeling back his fist, he came in a second time. He would beat Russia into the ground if he was able to. With his cover blown, it was the only way left he could think of to save everyone…and himself. 

Prussia lay on the floor coughing for a moment. Each sharp exhale and inhale sent a piercing pain through his rib cage. He swore he felt bone grinding on bone, and that was making it hard to catch his breath. He slowly calmed and brought in air using sharp, shallow breathing. Prussia had heard America yell at him to go, but he couldn’t do that just yet. He rolled onto his side and pushed himself up. He crawled to Italy and with a great, concentrated effort he started pulling at the tape. His pale skin was suddenly clammy, and he had started sweating profusely. Still, it wasn’t the time to worry about his physical state. Slowly, he was getting Italy’s wrist loose.

Italy turned his attention away from the fight that was taking place between the two large nations, and instead to Gilbert. He was untying him. Risking his life. Normally, Italy would tell him to just go, just go and leave him there but…he knew very well that the two of them had to get back to Germany together. One or the other simply wouldn’t do. If Prussia went home without him well…Feliciano didn’t even want to think about Ludwig being so worried anymore. It was all he’d ever been able to think about (other than food) while he’d been captive. He needed to get free. He needed to get home to him. And Prussia…as injured as he was…would need Italy’s help to do that.  
“Hurry!” He hissed. Gilbert managed to get one of Feliciano’s hands free, and once he did, Italy began to help untie himself. With two pairs of hands working, they started to peel the tape away.  
As he worked, Italy dared not look up to see how America was handling himself. He was just too scared. He didn’t want to see anyone get hurt by Russia, and he was afraid that was exactly what he would witness if he lifted his head.

Russia staggered forward from the sharp blow to the back of his head. He was caught completely off guard by the familiar voice and the attack from the other nation. It only took him a second to right himself and turn back towards America. The smile slipped off his face, and he stared with large purple eyes as he looked America over. At first he was completely confused. America looked just like Canada in his costume, so it took a second to process through what had happened. Once he realized Russia started to laugh.  
"Comrade Amerika!" He kept his eyes on the shorter nation. "I never expected you to be here. Dis is a surprise, da. Plus you take another cheap shot at me. I don't think I can forgive you this time."  
His eyes narrowed as he glared back at the other nation. "I was expecting Comrade Matvey. We had much to discuss. I do not have business with you yet. Why did you come all this way comrade? In a disguise?" His purple eyes never moved from his new opponent, but he spoke to his other guest, "Vhy vould you do this Prussia? This was not part ov the plan." Russia kept a calm exterior and waited for America to rush towards him.

Just as quickly as he’d hit him, Russia rose to his feet and spoke to him. All the same, America kept his fists in front of him and his feet planted at the ready for any sudden movements.  
“Don’t accuse him of not sticking to the plan, dude,” America said coldly. “You weren’t even going to hold up your end of the bargain. You were gunna keep Italy here regardless of whether Canada came to you or not!” And seeing that he had just a second or two to spare, America took the time to lift his hands to his golden hair. He quickly and roughly ran his fingers through his locks, freeing his hair from his disguise. Immediately, his usual hair thoink sprang back to life. If he was going to fight all out with Russia, he wanted to do it as himself, one hundred percent American.  
Blue eyes narrowed, and a snarl on his face, he focused on his enemy once more. Knowing Russia would never let Prussia and Italy leave, America knew it was his job to win this fight. He had to, so that the other countries would be safe. And at the very worst, if he didn’t win, he could certainly stall and distract Russia long enough to allow them time to escape.  
Don’t think like that now, he told himself. I’m going to win. I always win!  
“Let’s dance!” Rushing forward, and prepared for the worst, America came at Russia fists raised. 

Russia's calm demeanor was his number one advantage in this situation. He knew that Italy and Prussia were most likely going to get out of the house. That didn't bother him. He was sure he’d broken a few of Prussia's ribs only moments ago. He had both felt and heard the bones break. Prussia wouldn't be able to go that far, and Italy would be hopeless trying to escape on his own. He'd simply have to track them through the snow and recover them. That meant he could focus fully on the fight at hand and worry about them later.  
With America throwing all his energy into his first attacks Russia thought it imperative to move out of his range. It was hard to believe how quickly Russia could move with such a large girth. He dodged America's fist. As America focused solely on him Russia's smile returned,  
"Comrade Amerika. I think the real Matvey will listen to my ideas!"  
His smile grew as he thought of that. He had no idea what America thought about the things he’d said earlier in the day, but he hoped to rub America the wrong way, "Matvey and I used to be very... close friends! You didn't know that. Did you?"  
As America threw another punch Russia raised his arms and blocked America's fist. He could throw plenty of psychological warfare his opponents way. Russia laughed as America went to punch him again, and he caught the other nation's hand in his own. Holding America's balled up fist he squeezed it hard in his own icy grip.  
"He told me you never listen to him. Maybe he did tell you about his time here?"

“Shut up and fight me lard butt!” It may have stung to hear of such things, it really truly did. But there was no way he was going to let it get to him in the middle of a battle. Not if he could help it. Alfred knew he was in a serious situation, and as such, he was going to focus, something he could actually achieve when it mattered.  
And so, lashing out with his free hand, Alfred managed to get a good left hook into the ice nation’s cheek. Russia was forced to release him as he stumbled back.  
Two hits for me, none for you! He thought. Encouraged, he called up more adrenaline. I will win! Coming forward all over again, America ducked just in time as Russia threw a punch his way. Near the ground now, America crouched and kicked out a leg, going for a sweep of the larger nation.  
The larger they are the harder they fall!

Russia pulled his leg back and kicked out at America's oncoming leg. They collided together and seemed to cancel each other out. It was the problem with being almost equally matched. The move had caused only a small amount of pain to either of them. America had his freakish strength, but Russia was not without power. He also seemed to be made out of steel. The punches he felt of course, but America would have to do a lot more damage than what he was currently inflicting on the huge nation if he wanted to win.  
Russia jumped back and out of America's leg reach as America did the same. They both took a second to regroup. There was one advantage he had over America. Russia reached underneath his brown coat and in one smooth motion he pulled out his long metal pipe.  
America’s blue eyes widened when he saw the weapon. He’d seen it before back in the 1920’s, the last time he’d fought the large nation. It seemed to be Russia's weapon of choice other than his guns. Of course the introduction of a weapon seemed clearly unfair in a fist fight, but it wasn't uncommon for a little cheating in a fight as important as this.  
Alfred felt a quick stab of fear penetrate his usual confident bubble when he saw the metal. Skin against metal never made for good odds, and as good a fighter as he was, Russia’s girth along with a weapon immediately tipped the scales in his favor.  
America glanced quickly to Italy and Prussia. Gilbert had freed Italy.  
Good. They just need some time for a head start then. He thought. Knowing they would get away if he could just hold his own for a little while, America steeled himself and faced his enemy, who wasn’t above calling on unfair advantages.  
The large ice nation stared America down for just a second, and then with one smooth motion Russia raised the metal pipe above his head. His eyebrows lowered with intensity as he stared down at his target and swung with all his might. He wasn't surprised when America dodged out of the way, the metal pipe crashing into the floor behind his enemy with a frightening CRACK! But Russia was still on his feet and had a great advantage to the other nation with his new weapon and added reach. Not bothering to bring the pipe up he swung it to the side like a golf club trying once more to connect it to America. America still trying to get out of the way, felt the hard bite of the metal come down against his back as he tried to flee.  
“Ugh!” He stumbled forward, but dared not let himself fall. He knew once he was on the ground, it would all be over. Pain throbbing through his spin, he turned just in time to see Russia approach again.  
Damn! He’s fast! America dodged again, just in the nick of time. This time Russia’s pipe went through the wall just behind where he’d been standing, putting a huge hole in it and making another deafening noise.  
I’ve got to get back on the offensive or I’ll never win! But it seemed impossible. Russia now had a much longer reach, and with his power, a pipe was deadly. It seemed all the time America had left was spent leaping out of the way, that pipe crashing down just behind him with every given second. Italy and Prussia had fled the room some time ago, and America was quick to follow. He rolled out of the room barely dodging another attack as Russia came flying after him. America scrambled to his feet and ran down the long hall heading back towards the living room and entrance. Breathing much more quickly due to fear, Alfred looked for a weapon in the room he might be able to use. Something. Anything. It was a living room after all. There must have been something he could grab!  
And then he saw it. There was a fire place. And next to it, was a fire poker. That would certainly even the odds. Making a break for it, Alfred dove for the weapon. But it seemed Russia was one step ahead of him. He brought his pipe down, and with a horrific CRACK, it connected with the side of Alfred’s body.  
With a pain filled scream, he collapsed. And as soon as he found himself on the wooden floor, no more than a few feet from the fireplace, he knew it was probably too late to get back up. Turning over, he spotted Russia, already looming over him, his demented purple eyes seeming to almost shine. He smiled down at his houseguest,  
"Matvey never told you he came to my home did he, comrade?" Russia chuckled lowly. He knew by the reactions he’d seen on America’s face earlier in the day that it must be true. It seemed America was somewhat in the dark about the things he’d done for Canada in the distant past. While the times he spoke of were hardly transgressions…. America didn’t have to know that. Russia calmly raised his pipe again. He decided to twist the truth of the situation as much as he wanted, and he wanted to cut through America’s spirit, "I took very good care of your little brother, America. He said a lot better care than you ever had. It was the 60s. You were busy or high, da?"  
Russia swung once more. The metal came down hard. Pain exploded in Alfred’s body. With another cry, he curled up on his side. Russia only laughed at the agony he saw,  
"I promise that no matter vhat I will take good care of him again! When Prussia is gone he will be most upset I am sure, but I will be there for him.” Russia raised the pipe continuously and mercilessly beat his victim, but he got a greater pleasure out of the lies he was telling and the effect they had on America,” Maybe I can hold his hand like old times, da?"  
Alfred, his blue eyes wincing, gazed up at his enemy. He already knew that he’d lost. He was pinned, and with Russia’s feet on either side of him, his pipe above him, there was nowhere to go.  
It’s ok, he told himself. Italy and Prussia got away…so…it’s ok.  
But it was hard to keep thinking that with the horrific pain Russia continually brought to him. And possibly far worse than the physical punishment were the words that were raining down onto him from Russia’s lips. They hurt far worse than the physical blows. They were like slashed to the soul.  
Matthew… He thought in agony. Matthew, no! I’m so sorry!

 

Author’s Note:  
Probably not the best place for a chapter break. Hopefully, I will get to the next few chapters this weekend, but I am not positive. They require more editing before posting. Stay tuned.


	20. Plane ride from hell Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Germany, Canada, Britain, and France go to help their friends. Are they already to late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. Sorry this update took so long but between work and doctor's visits my time was eaten away. Thank you for taking the time to read this story. We hope you are enjoying it. We appreciate all comments you guys leave us.

** Chapter 20 **

Plane Ride of Hell

Britain, France, Canada, and Germany had all made it onto their designated plane. As was the case with Prussia and America, there weren’t a lot of people flying two days after Christmas. As such, most of the cabin was theirs with exception of a few scattered passengers here and there. They were on a commercial airplane. It was the standard setup, and Canada studied the two aisles and the rows of seats. He needed something to keep his mind from driving him to panic over America. The four were all seated together, only an aisle between them.

Britain sat near the aisle, Matthew in the middle, and Francis at the window. Then, across the way Germany sat by himself. Which was fine. He seemed like he wanted to be left alone, and Britain imagined he had every right to wish for privacy. He was clearly still very stressed out and worried after all.

Their plane had been in the air for little over an hour, and they still had a few hours left before landing. France, of course, was already bugging the stewardess for wine, and her phone number. Britain only rolled his eyes.

“Oaf…” he muttered, disgruntled.

 

Matthew sat in his seat. He felt a sensation come over him. He felt weird and uncomfortable but not because France was nearly laying on top of him to talk to the stewardess who was in the aisle. His papa's antics he could handle, but he had a developing pain in his side. It had come on quick and fierce. He let out a weak, "Eh." 

His hand went to his side and tried to massage away the sudden pain away. He suddenly found himself crossing his fingers. He hoped it was a muscle cramp. He was hoping against hope that this pain was not what he thought it was. 

The longer the minutes ticked by the worse he was starting to feel, and as more minutes passed he had crossed his arms over his chest and was trying to keep his breath from catching in his throat. It was getting harder and harder to breathe as the pain suddenly hit him full force. That's when he finally accepted what was wrong. He shook his head no as he tried to block out the pain. He had felt this way before. It always happened when something was wrong with his brother. Not a little wrong either...it had happened during Pearl Harbor and September 11 wherever his twin was Canada knew America was in a serious amount of pain and that thought hurt Matthew much more than any physical pain could. He felt his body give off a shudder as he bit his lip to keep from crying out.

France was the first to notice probably because of how he was laying on top of his son. He turned to look at Matthew and was surprised when he saw Canada's eyes squeezed shut and his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. France thought he had caused Matthew some type of pain so he quickly crawled off his son.

"Mathieu? What is the matter? Did I hurt you?" He reached out placing his hand on Matthew's shoulder comfortingly, but Matthew didn't answer.

 

Britain looked over next, his attention grabbed mostly by the fact that France had stopped chasing skirts. Looking to his son, Britain’s thick eyes brows crinkled together with worry.

“Matthew? What is it, love?” He could clearly see the distress across Matthew’s face. And as Britain watched, he saw Canada start to tremble as he clutched at his clothes. He appeared as if he were in serious discomfort.

“Matthew?” Leaning in, Arthur quickly put a hand on Matthew’s forehead to check for a temperature. Canada didn’t have one, even though he was a bit clammy. Still not sure what the problem was, he tried to assess the situation more carefully.

“Are you ill? Perhaps you ate something.” Although Britain did indeed know about the special link his twin boys had with one another, he hadn’t yet thought that perhaps this might be the reason behind Canada’s discomfort. And he probably hadn’t thought of it…because he didn’t want to. Because if he admitted to such a thing, it meant that Alfred was suffering under Russia’s hand. And until Arthur was told otherwise…he simply wasn’t ready for that reality.

And so, instead, he reached out to his younger son, resting a hand on his golden locks.

“I think I have some antacids if you need them.”

 

Matthew shook his head ‘no’ at both of his father's questions. He looked at France and then slowly turned to look at Britain. He stared into his father's green orbs. His own were shimmering as he tried to keep moisture from escaping his eyes. He knew whatever pain Alfred was in, it must have been excruciating. He inhaled sharply and the air hitched in his throat.

"A-Alfred's..." His voice trailed off. He knew what he was about to say would tear his father's heart out, but it was better for Britain to know now than when they got to Russia's home. "A-Alfred's hurt. He's hurt really badly.... I-I feel it. Oh mon dieu it hurts, Arthur." He pushed himself back into his seat trying to work the pain out of his body, but it wasn't fading. He wrapped his arms even tighter around his body as he tried to control what he was feeling.

France's eyes widened when he heard the news, and he slowly looked towards Britain. France was immediately afraid of how the island nation would handle such news.

 

Britain’s kind and understanding face shifted. His green eyes widened ever so slightly. For a long, dreadful moment it was silent in the airplane as Britain’s green eyes shifted in his skull. The only sound was the humming of the engines beneath them. Britain felt his body quite suddenly grow cold. But despite this, he quickly glanced away from France and Canada, and instead at the back of the seat in front of him.

“So he has been found out then…” he said quietly, as if trying to maintain some sort of semblance of control over the situation. He quickly crossed his legs, then glanced off to the side, resting his chin in his open palm in a casual way. Almost matter-of-fact, he said,

“He was bound to be found out…that idiot. He never should have done something so reckless in the first place. But it’s no matter…we still have that tracking device. It will lead us right to their location. We’ll be there in a matter of a few hours at most. This doesn’t change our plans at all.”

“Bon Dieu, Arthur!” (Good God, Arthur.) The shocked gasp came from France, and when Britain looked back over, he found Francis holding, a now softly sobbing Matthew in his arms. Francis looked at Arthur with an expression of complete disbelief. Apparently, he was so stunned by Britain’s callousness that he didn’t have anything to say to him in return. Britain shrugged.

“What? There’s nothing that can be done about it while we are stuck on this airplane.” But even so…now that Britain was facing France instead of away, it was very easy to see his ash-white coloring. He looked sick. Miserably so. And he was sweating, quite a lot. And as Britain lowered his hand from his chin, France saw that it was shaking horrifically as if he’d been caught out in a blizzard.  

“Excuse me for a moment, would you? I need to visit the loo.” Then Arthur excused himself and got out of his seat. Calmly and casually, he walked down the aisle and to the men’s room, and once he was there, the door locked, he didn’t come back out.   

 

Back in the snowy fields of Russia, Prussia knew he was severely slowing Italy down. There weren’t many things in battle that Italy excelled in, however, retreating was his expertise, but as they walked through the snow Prussia was having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other. The air was brutal and cold, and with his injuries breathing was almost impossible. He couldn't draw in enough air for the trek they were currently making. He was steadily growing weaker with each step, and his vision was blurring.

"I-Italy." Prussia tried to draw in air to speak again, "G-go on without me. I-I can’t...." He put his hand to his chest. As he tried to draw in air his ribs sent a sharp stabbing pain through him and exhaled just as quickly as he’d inhaled, "Y-you have to make it b-back."

 

They hadn’t made it far from the castle-house of Russia’s, but they’d made it at least far enough to finally be out of sight from that awful place. But the snow was thick on the ground, and it was fresh. It covered any road that might have led to the isolated building in the middle of the fields of white death. The only direction they had to follow were the tracks that the recent cab had made from the airport, the one that had just dropped off Prussia and America to the house.

Gilbert and Feliciano had been following those, knowing it would eventually take them back into town. But…Prussia would remember how long that drive had been. Town would be miles away, and both men were already freezing.

Gilbert at least had been prepared for the weather, but Italy wasn’t. He’d been abducted from his own home after all, and so didn’t even have a jacket. Hugging himself against the freezing winds, he looked over his shoulder at poor Gilbert who’d stopped in the snow.

It was hard going. Trudging through the white powder even made walking difficult. And the raw, dry air assaulted their sinuses and throats. The wind whipped by, stealing Italy’s breath right out from his lungs before he even had a chance to use it. The cold, wet, ice of winter had soaked clear through his shoes, socks and pants. He couldn’t even feel his toes, and they’d only been outside for about twenty minutes.

All the same, Italy turned back around. Shivering, he moved to Gilbert’s side. And once he reached him, he took his arm and slung it over his shoulder. Then, through the freezing wind and through all the misery, he offered a blue smile.

“Co-come on G…Gilbert. I’m-a-sure, we’re almost there! Ve!” It was a blatant lie, but it was one they both needed. They couldn’t turn back, and would rather risk their lives with the weather than with Russia. Or rather, Gilbert would rather risk his life. Italy seemed to realize the situation, for the next thing he said was, “I-I’ll-a-keep you w-warm!” He said, even while shivering in place. “I can’t-a-die b-because I’m-a-c-c-country!” And so, holding Gilbert close to himself, and supporting him the best he could, he turned to face into the wind once more, his little body shaking like a leaf on a wind.

“W-w-we need to-a-get-a b-b-back to Germania!” And as the pair struggled, every step seeming as if it were impossible, it was then that something white had flittered down in front of Italy’s field of vision. Then, as he watched, another came. Then another. Then another. And within only a few more seconds…it was snowing. Italy watched in dismay as the only tracks they had to follow started to disappear before their eyes.   

 

Gilbert felt Italy shaking next to him. He wanted to give the weaker nation his jacket but Italy was right; he was still a nation, and he would heal. If Gilbert got frostbite who knew what would happen to him, so he desperately needed his jacket. Somehow, he still felt wretched though.

"S-sorry Italy. W-west is co-coming soon. He'll find us. There'z a tracker. I promized him I would-would g-getz you h-home." He reached up putting his hand on Italy's head and roughed up his hair in an affectionate way. He hoped he could at least boost the little nation's spirit. Then they started through the snow once more, but only a moment later terror pierced both fleeing nations.

"Ah. Is that so comrade?" Russia's cool voice came from behind the duo. Prussia gasped as he heard Russia's voice. Gilbert's red eyes grew large as Russia's hand suddenly clamped down on Gilbert's shoulder. Russia ripped Prussia away from Italy and spun the albino around. Then he reached out placing his hand on Gilbert's chest and shoved him harshly back into the snow. With a sharp cry Gilbert clutched his chest and fell away from Italy. When Italy looked to Russia the nation's brown coat was splattered with red. It was a dreary indicator of what had become of their ally. Russia reached out and grabbed onto Italy's wrist tightly.

"Comrade Italy. I can't let you go just yet. Please come with me back to the car." Off in the distance Italy could see Russia's car parked. Russia had obviously spotted the two fleeing nations from his car and he had come after them on foot so they wouldn't hear him approach in the snowing field. Russia pulled Italy back towards his car leaving Gilbert in the snow. The ice nation was leaving Prussia to what would most likely be his icy death.

 

Needless to say, Italy was petrified. The blood coating the front of Russia’s coat was the only color in the dead world around them, making the reddish hue seem to glow in the ice and snow. Italy had been scared enough of Russia before, when he’d been somewhat civil to him, but now…seeing the violence he was capable of took his fear to an entirely different level.

Feliciano trembled in his captor’s grip, but as he was pulled forcefully back toward the car, he oddly didn’t put up any resistance. Glancing back at Gilbert, he actually thought this was probably the best thing he could have done for the ex-nation. If what Prussia said was true, and he had a tracker on him…then their friends would go right to Gilbert and get him the help he needed. So…for once in his life, he remained quiet and followed along silently. If he made a scene the ex-nation would surely become belligerent as soon as he was able. He would probably try to put up another fight. Prussia could be killed in an instant. The blood on Russia’s coat proved that. On top of wanting Prussia to be safe, he wanted to keep himself safe too. And he knew…if he resisted…then he could be hurt. And he wasn’t fool enough to pretend for one second that he could fight Russia. He knew he couldn’t. America had tried. And he was so much bigger and stronger than he was. And the results of that fight…were clear.

Italy glanced back at Prussia one more time. He and America had arrived over an hour ago. That mean it would only be another hour or so before their friends arrived. _Gilbert will-a-be safer in the-a snow, where they’ll find him with his-a-tracker. Even if he can-a-die…he has on good winter gear. He’ll be-a fine for a few hours…_

He hoped Prussia understood what he was doing, and didn’t try to come after them. At least he and America couldn’t be killed directly like this. They would just have to find another way to escape.

Russia pulled Italy forcefully toward the car. When they reached it, he pulled open the back door. Roughly, Italy was shoved inside, the door closed and locked behind him.

Immediately, Feliciano let out a gasp of horror. His fear turned into terror as he saw America. The larger nation was lying across the back seats of the car, completely incapacitated. The blood on Russia’s coat matched the blood that seemed to be all over Italy’s ally. He was bruised and broken and in more places than Italy dared to count. His clothes were torn from the fight he’d chosen to take part in, and red blotches seemed to only grow as Italy crouched in shock, his back pressed against the car door and window.

Perhaps the thing that frightened Italy the most of all was that he wasn’t moving. America didn’t have his usual silly grin, or his cocky attitude. His usual vibrant energy certainly was nowhere to be seen. Instead…the only life that seemed to come from him was the labored, and painful wheezing noises he made. It was clearly difficult just for him to breathe.

Italy’s breathing changed then too. And as Russia threw the car in gear and they started to move, Italy started to wheeze. Shaking, he put a hand to his chest in horror.

“Oh mio Dio, oh mio Dio, oh mio Dio!” (Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!) He really just had no idea what to do. Petrified with fear, he could hardly move or blink or breathe. Turning, he looked out the window, but all he saw were fields of white.

 _Oh mio Dio! Germany come get me! I’m-a-so afraid!_ Tears started to fill his eyes as his heart raced like a rabbits from within his chest. Sniffling, and wiping at his eyes, he wondered briefly how he would ever get back to Ludwig.

“U..uugh…” Came the pain riddled groan from beside him. Turning away from the window, tears still streaming down his cheeks, Feliciano faced America once more. This time, he found him blinking his blue eyes open…or…at least the one that wasn’t swollen shut.

Not knowing if there was anything at all that he could do, but always it had been in his nature to help others, he quickly went to Alfred’s side. Squeezing himself down near the floorboards, his back against the front seats, he faced the gravely injured nation.

“America! America! Oh mio Dio!” And that seemed to be all he could manage to even utter for he was so frightened.

Blinking, his eyes looking hazy, Alfred slowly shifted his gaze to meet Italy’s sweet face. And once he was able to focus on him, a fierce, unhappy frown cut through his features. Still struggling to breath, he choked out a few garbled words.

“…s…suppose…ta…escape…” It took Italy a second to get through not only the language barrier, but the difficulty of Alfred’s speech, but finally, he understood.

“Oh…well I…we-a-tried. We…we-a-didn’t get very-a-far in this snow. B…but Gilbert got away! Ve?”

America let his eyelids fluttered closed for a brief second, as if simply being conscious was difficult for him, but then he reopened them and focused on Italy once more.

“…s’good…”

“You…you-a-shouldn’t talk…” Italy said, concerned. But America looked almost like he wanted to wave the smaller country off, only obviously, he hadn’t the ability to move due to the agony he was in. He did however open his mouth to say something else. And when he did, he suddenly started to cough wickedly. He cried out in the pain it caused him to simply move that much as it wracked his body. And as Italy watched, blood trickled out from between his lips.

“Alfred…a-stop it. Don’t move…” Reaching out, Italy gently put his hands on his friend’s shoulder, trying desperately to be of some use to him. And as he comforted him, his coughing fit slowed and then stopped.

Licking his red lips, and still struggling to breathe, Alfred looked to Italy woefully.

“…s…sorry…I…c…couldn’t save you…” Italy’s chest tightened. He could scarcely stand it. And before he knew it, fresh tears entered his eyes.

“It’s-a-fine. Don’t worry.” Making sure his hand wasn’t on one of America’s injuries; he gave him a reassuring squeeze. Wiping his tears away with his other hand, he tried to soothe America. “It’s-a-ok. Our friends will-a-come get us soon! Ve!”

America saw Italy’s happy, reassuring smile, and even with tears streaming down his sweet face it seemed to make him feel a little bit better, even if he knew very well that no one was coming. Gilbert had the tracker after all. So there was nothing anyone could do.

His body throbbing with pain, and his wounds feeling as if they were on fire it was all he could do to simply lay there and breathe. America let his eyes close again, this time trying his best to concentrate on that reassuring hand on his shoulder. Although it would have been a lot better had Italy escaped…he was so…so very thankful that he wasn’t alone. America would never be the type to admit it out loud…but he was just as frightened as Italy.   


	21. Plane ride from hell Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plane ride continues. A mistake from the past comes back to haunt Canada, and he may make another out of impulsiveness. No matter what he's made up his mind, and he's dead set on what he needs to do. Britain may have forgotten that the younger twin can be just as brash and stubborn as his brother even if he is quieter. Russia makes insinuations and accusations and everything comes crashing in on Britain. France is trying to help his family in any way possible. Germany must make some crucial decisions while the remaining members of the FACE family fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things escalated quickly.

** Chapter 20 **

Plane Ride of Hell

 

Back on the plane Canada found himself in the small airplane bathroom clutching the toilet with all his might. He'd thrown up quite a few times in the last 30 minutes. His stomach was doing flips in his body, and he was glad his papa could put his silly antics away when it really mattered. France was holding his son's hair back in one hand and gently rubbing his back with the other. The older blonde nation felt rather useless that he could do nothing for either of his ailing sons or Arthur at the moment.

"Mon Cherie... I didn't know you got like this when your brother got hurt...." France's voice trailed off.

Matthew raised his sleeve to his face and wiped his sweat away.

"It isn't usually like this. Not this bad anyway. That's how I know he's really hurt. When this happens I-I feel better when I'm near him. That's why I always stay so close to him when he's sick. That and I hate seeing him hurt."

The pain was slowly starting to turn back into a dull aching throb. Wherever his brother was, he was unconscious now. Matthew was just glad that in unconsciousness Alfred would feel no pain. He lay his head down on his arms as he tried to recover.

 

In the next restroom over Arthur was still hiding. And frankly, he was a complete and total train wreck. He’d gone in there specifically to get away from his family, so they wouldn’t see how truly terrified he was, how upset he was. He’d tried to play it cool out in the open, because he knew well enough that he was the leader of their little family of misfits.  He was always the rational one, always the one to take charge of things and keep everyone in line. He had to be. France and America had certainly never been responsible enough, and Canada just wasn’t firm enough to get anyone to listen to him. And so…he’d tried his best to appear as if he was alright, but…it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Still shaking, even though he’d been in the restroom for quite a long time, Britain stood in front of the tiny mirror. His eyes were red and puffy from all the crying he’d just achieved. Breathing a bit erratic, he reached for the paper towels. Wetting them down with cool water from the sink, he pressed them over his eyes.

 _I have to get it together when I leave the lavatory,_ he thought. _I have to be functional enough to handle this situation. If I don’t…then we won’t be able to work through this. And then we’ll never get Alfred, Gilbert and Feliciano back._

Britain tried not to think of that, but it was difficult. Any parent’s worst fear in any country, all over the world, was of their child getting kidnapped, and then having horrible things done to them. It didn’t matter what language a person spoke, or what nationality they were. If they were a parent, then that was their greatest fear. And here it was for him, coming true.

 _My son! He’s my son!_ He thought firmly to his reflection in the mirror. _I held him in my arms when he was just a baby. I changed his diapers, taught him to eat with a spoon. I watched him grow! And when he was a lad, I was constantly running after him because he never slowed down! He was an endless bundle of energy._

And as he thought about those times, and longed for the olden days. His green eyes started to fill with more tears all over again, despite his best efforts to stop it. But it was impossible not to think about how wonderful a child America had been. Sure, he had disobeyed Britain many more times than the older nation would have liked, but…it seemed to only be a part of who he was. Alfred was brash, rough at times, and he was opinionated, obstinately so. But the boy had always known the difference between right and wrong, and his sense of justice couldn’t be matched by any country Britain knew. Alfred stood up for what he believed in. And those beliefs he carried with him, were more solid than stone. That was why he argued so often with others. He was always willing to defend his morals.

And what parent wouldn’t want their son to be so steadfast?

It may have gotten on Britain’s nerves from time to time, and they didn’t always see things eye to eye, but…he was proud of Alfred. Even if he rarely voiced such things. Alfred had grown into a strong, independent country, and he tried his best. He didn’t always succeed at that…but…his heart was _always_ in the right place, despite his mistakes and fumbles. That was what made America so great. Not necessarily his achievements…but his spirit.

“He’s such a good boy…” He muttered out loud to himself. And Britain simply couldn’t stand the thought of him being abused. The very idea tore his heart in two.

 Suddenly, his cell phone went off. Britain jumped with fright, startled out of his fatherly thoughts as the melody of God Save the Queen started to play.

“Bloody hell!” He muttered. Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled for the phone with unsteady fingers. Miraculously, he was able to pull it out in one go. Looking to its caller ID, Britain’s heart suddenly ran cold as a fresh bout of adrenaline kicked in, pumping more fear through his system.

It was Russia.

Russia was calling him.

For a moment, Arthur couldn’t move. He simply stared at the screen in petrified shock.

 _Why…why would he call me?_ For a brief second, he thought about not answering it. He wasn’t supposed to know anything about what was going on after all. It wouldn’t be strange for him to let it go to voicemail. But…

His hands started to tremble all over again.

He couldn’t do that.

He had to know what he wanted. He had to know what had become of America. He wanted to know that his son was ok, even though he already knew he wasn’t. At the very least…he could get some more information about him. Even if Arthur wasn’t even sure he wanted more information.

All the same…he knew he had to answer.

Exhaling quickly, to get his voice under control, then running a hand through his blonde hair, he was somehow able to put up his usual stoic front in a matter of seconds. He’d been around for a very long time after all. And he’d had to work his way through many emotional situations in the past. As such, Britain had a lot of practice. Making sure he was ready, Britain calmly flipped open his phone and held it to his ear.

“Hello?” 

 

 Back in the car Russia was merrily driving along. He'd warned Italy to be quiet and knew he didn't have to worry about America. When he heard Britain pick up the phone, he said in a cheery voice.

"Good day, Comrade Britian. I have some strange news for you, da. Your son came to my house to pick a fight. Seems he was angry over some things his brother and I did long time ago. He was upset I had been seeing Comrade Matvey." Russia laughed into the phone, "I vwas wondering if you would come get him. He's a bit of a handful for me."

 

And suddenly, Britain was slammed with a whole boatload of fresh information he hadn’t bargained for. His mind whirled as he absorbed Russia’s words. _What on earth is he talking about? Seeing Matthew? What does that mean? Is he implying they were friends once?_

Britain however, was very good at focusing on the details that were important and shoving aside the rest for later. And right now, that bit of surprising information wasn’t important. What _was_ important was the fact that Russia was asking him to go to his house to pick America up.

His mind whirled all over again.

_Why would he release America? Wasn’t America the country he was ultimately after to begin with? So why would he let him go? Unless…unless this is another trap. Is he…is he hoping to take me prisoner as well? But to what end? How many countries is he planning to hold hostage?_

As far as Britain knew, Russia still had Gilbert, so that made his hostages three. If he wanted Britain too, then he’d have four. _But why? I thought he might actually let the others go once he had America._

Britain’s heart picked up pace. He didn’t fully understand Russia’s motive, or his plans. As such, it made the situation very dangerous and tricky.

But Britain still knew what he had to say. If he was acting as himself, a Britain who had no idea his son had been kidnapped or hurt then he’d have to respond the way he would if he didn’t know he was in trouble.

“Why on earth would you need me to come get him? He’s a grown country, put him on an airplane and send him back to America.” 

 

"Hmmm." Russia said into the phone. "That vwould normally be ok, but Comrade America and I have had serious fight. I do not think he should vfly alone. He was very upset about what I had to say. He probably should talk to you bevore he goes home. I'm avraid that I may have caused a rift of some sort between Comrade America and Comrade Canada. America did not seem to know I have been with his little brother bevfore. He did not take news so well. I thinkv letting him vly alone is not such a good idea. Plus right now he is sleeping off fight.” Russia paused, seemingly just to let that emotional knife twist in Britain’s chest.

“It is ok. If it is inconvenient I keep him here until he feels better. However long it takes. You do not need to worry about him. I vwill make sure that he is ok before I send him home. He vill be vith me for little while, da? Maybe a week or so. We need to talk about what I said anyway. Sorry to inconvenience you Comrade Britain. I vwill tell America you could not come get him. I vwill say you were too busy with work, da? He vwill understand. You are right. He is big country."

Russia smoothed talked his way through the conversation. It seemed like this was Russia's way of keeping the world from trying to locate Alfred for a while. Who knew what the ice nation could do to his son in the length of a week or two. Britain’s entire body went numb as ice crept into his heart. Adrenaline pounded through his veins as his heart beat even faster still, threatening to make him gasp for breath. Almost immediately he felt light headed and he had to sit down on top of the closed toilette.

 _My son…he’s…openly admitting to having hurt him…_ Britain tried to steady himself, despite the utter and complete panic that he was feeling inside. Luckily…he was well versed in these types of conversations.

“Hold on now,” he said, halting Russia before he dared hang up. “You’re saying he’s hurt?” Britain’s chest started to tighten. Lifting a hand, he clutched at his green sweater. He felt fresh tears enter his eyes, his face tensing into a grimace. If he were another country, he would have given himself away. But even with such outward signs of parental pain, his voice still came out smooth as silk.

“If he’s injured then of course I’ll come get him, just give me the address,” he said. “But…I have got to ask, what’s this business about Canada? I’ve never heard anything like that from him and I had no idea America was looking for a fight with you, although…he has been sensitive about his brother since that world meeting affair.”

 

Russia grinned on the other end of the phone. He thought he could get Britain to his home if he tried hard enough.

"Oh so you can make it, da. He will be very happy. I do not think Matvey talks enough to his family. This is what started argument wivth comrade America. I did not know Matvey never told you we were very good friends once. I think Matvey should be one to tell you about his affairs comrade Britain. If he never told you we were together once it is not my place to. Oh. I just let that slip, da? That’s how I accidentally got comrade America upset. Forget I said that. It was really only once and was very long time ago."

 

Britain wasn’t exactly sure what it was Russia was saying. _Was only once? What was only once?_ The phone in his hand was trembling so wildly now that he had to lift his other hand in order to steady it. Gripping his little cell with both palms now, he found it was still difficult to keep a grip on the device. His hands were sweating and it made the metal slick.

 _Is he…insinuating something?_ The very idea was both horrifying and repulsive. Britain was sure, that if Russia had meant it in such a way then it was just to get under his skin, or to purposefully upset him. Surely Matthew would never hook up with someone like Russia. Russia…who currently had Matthew’s brother locked away in some prison or torture chamber. Who the hell knew where.

 _Surely not._ He felt fairly certain about it. But…it didn’t really matter for Britain, because Matthew was just next door. He had the ability to simply walk over there and ask him to clear up all this nonsense as soon as he hung up. But America on the other end…

 _Dear heavens! If Russia’s feeding Alfred this kind of nonsense…_ But Britain didn’t really even want to think about it. News like that, if Alfred chose to believe it… It would crush him. Russia had been America’s enemy for as long as anyone could remember. If Russia was telling Alfred that his little brother had been going around behind his back, consorting with, being friendly with, and possibly even having a relationship with his enemy…Arthur knew it would hurt him deeply.

 _Dear God! Is he also playing mind games with Alfred on top of all he’s already done to him? And with how close the boys have become recently. Russia saw how much he cared for Matthew at the meeting. Is he purposefully using that against him?_ Britain’s tears only fell faster. Taking the phone away from his face for just a second, he covered his mouth with one of his hands to stifle a sob. It was sick. To use the relationship America had just recently acquired with his brother against him was sick. It didn’t matter if Russia’s news was true or not…Britain knew Alfred would go mad wondering about it.

Literally choking on his own tears, Arthur silenced himself so he could finish his conversation. He had to act normal. He simply could not give himself away. If he did…Alfred would be the one to pay for it.

“Well…that’s none of my business, now is it?” He said, his voice unnervingly normal sounding compared to how destroyed he actually appeared. “Now, what was that address? I’ll head right over. It sounds like you’ve done quite enough already.” And it was perfectly in character, even the last line. Britain knew he’d still be upset with Russia for saying such things, and for having hurt his son, even if he _did_ believe Alfred started it. But the truth of the situation was just so much worse. Arthur simply couldn’t wait to hang up the phone. He felt almost like Russia was sending poison into his ears. And now…well…now Britain had to have a talk with Canada. Urgently.  

 

Russia let out a laugh on the other end of the phone, "I am gracious host. I vwill pick you up from airport. You just text me arrival time." After telling Britain which airport he needed to head to Arthur would immediately notice it was cities away from where they had sent Gilbert and America. Obviously, they had moved. Before Britain could say anything more Russia hung up on the island nation leaving him in the quiet of the bathroom. 

 

In the car Russia looked in the rear-view mirror. He could see America's unconscious body and Italy had stuffed himself into the small space behind the driver's seat in order to remain unseen.

"Very good news comrades. It looks like Comrade Britain will be joining us soon. I have not had house so full in long time!”

Italy really didn't know what to think of that. Britain, obviously, knew what was happening to them. So...did that mean this was part of the rescue plan? Italy wasn't sure. He looked to America. The injured nation had fallen back into unconsciousness only shortly after he'd awoken and said those few words to Italy. The only thing Italy could think was that the jostling of the car ride was simply too painful for him. Reaching out, he put a gentle hand on his forehead. 

"Please be ok..." he whispered.

 

Back on the plane, Britain's end of the line went dead. He let his arm fall to his side, lax, as if the phone simply weighed too much for him to hold up any longer. He let the device clatter to the bathroom floor. He could scarcely stand to continue existing. It was all, almost too much. Thinking of Alfred, of his usually joyful face, always a hint of mischief in the corner of his eyes, or a joke hiding in the curve of his lips made him want to pass out. He almost did. Dizzy from the stress, the world swam around him sickeningly. 

Britain hunched forward, resting his head between his knees. Starting to sob all over again, he just couldn't get himself under control the second time around. When he first found out he'd been hurt, it had been bad enough...but now...it was almost as if Russia were bragging about it...to his face. He dangled it in front of him like a carrot. _Here's your oldest son. Look what I did to him! You want me to stop? Come get him then._  

The usually quiet island nation, who was almost always stoic, always in control and known for being a bit standoffish, suddenly screamed.

 

France who was taking care of Matthew in the next stall over felt his heart go into his mouth when he heard Arthur start to scream. He swore his heart stopped.

"Angleterre! What happened? Who was that?" He knew something had happened, and he assumed it all had to do with whoever had been on Britain's phone. France stepped back out of the small bathroom Matthew was in and then bolted to the next bathroom over. He banged on the door until he got it to open. As soon as he pulled the door open he stopped in the doorway his eyes widening. He felt his heart cracking.

"Angleterre...." France went to his Britain’s side kneeling in front of him. He looked down at the cell phone on the floor. With a quizzical look, France reached out gently cupping Britain's face in his large hands, "Who was on the phone Angleterre?"

Gently he ran his thumbs over his brother's cheeks pushing the tears away from Britain's face and then he repeated the process as more tears fell. He made Britain look him in the eyes, and he was serious for once. It was one of those rare times in his life, "Tell me."

Matthew crawled his way from the bathroom stall and over towards where his father's where.

"Papa. Dad... what's happened?" He sat on the floor leaning against the frame of the bathroom. He stared at his sobbing father unable to reach him because of the tight quarters.

 

Britain struggled to regain himself. Being a mess wouldn’t help anyone. It wouldn’t help Alfred. And as he looked into Francis’s worried face, he realized that his distress was only upsetting his family further. And when he heard his youngest son’s voice…

Britain turned, looking to Matthew who was huddled in the doorway. He appeared petrified. His lavender eyes were huge, and he could see the pain etched on his young face.

Britain loved Alfred, but he loved Matthew too. At the moment, Matthew was the one he was with, and Matthew was the only one he could help. At this moment, the only way he could comfort the younger twin was by getting himself together. Falling apart would only terrify him more.

Britain quickly wiped at his face, pulling himself out of the emotional hole Russia had plunged him into. There was work to do and important things to discuss. Concentrating on breathing a few times, deeply to settle his nerves, Arthur made himself sit up straight. Still far too shaky to stand, he remained seated on the toilette lid.

“Russia just called,” he explained. And he watched both France and Canada’s faces fill with fear when he announced it. Calmly, Britain faced them. “He wants me to go to his house to pick up America. I…I’m not exactly sure what he’s planning with such a stunt, but, the airport address he gave me to meet him at is not the airport we’re currently headed to. It makes me very concerned…because last time I checked with Germany, he said the signal from the tracking device hadn’t moved in hours.”

Everyone had assumed that meant Gilbert had placed the device at the location they needed. They had assumed it was a simple matter of heading there and staging their rescue operation. But now…with the tracker in a totally different location from what Russia was telling them, it was hard to determine what was the best course of action.

“Vell, it sounds like a very clever trap,” came a sudden, gruff voice from behind them. All three countries turned to find Germany standing in the tiny bathroom hall just outside the rest rooms. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his blue eyes glanced to the side as he spoke, far more calmly than any of the others.

“Durink battle at var time, it vas a fairly common strategy to do somethink like dis,” he said. “I’m sure all of you ‘ave heard of it. It’s called divide and conquer.”

Britain’s green eyes widened at the news.

“Of course!” He completely agreed. He had to. It would have been perfectly brilliant of Russia, had he found the tracker, to leave it in a location where a trap had been laid, and then at the same time, take the hostages somewhere else. But…that would only work if he knew they were sending a rescue party. Britain’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“But…Germany. Russia doesn’t know we’re coming. Nothing in the phone call led me to believe he was onto us. I still think we have the element of surprise on our side. He had no idea that we’re all working together. He thought I was alone, and he singled me out to get me to head to his place by myself.” Germany nodded, but the intensity of his blue eyes didn’t change.

“It doesn’t matter if he knows or not,” he said. “Before anyvon here even suggests it, I’m sayink right now dat splittink the group up is suicide. Our only advantages now are our numbers, and zee element of surprise. If ve’re not all together, ve are veak unt ve cannot fight him.”

Britain was inclined to agree. But even as Germany brought it up and made a solid case, he had to wonder what they would do once they landed. What if Italy or Gilbert were left tied up somewhere with the tracker? Russia had three hostages after all. He could have left one behind. But before Britain could really worry about it, Germany had the answer once more.

“Ve ‘ave plenty of time to infiltrate both locations,” he said. “If you left from England right now, it vould take you hours to get to zee airport Russia told you about. After ve land, ve should go unt check out zee tracking device unt see vhere it leads us. Den, ve can head, as a group, back to your second airport location. Ve vill use you as bait, give you zee tracking device unt try zee operation a second time.”

“Isn’t that risky?” This oddly enough, came from France. “If Russia’s already found le device, then he will be expecting it again, non?”

“Perhaps…but it’s zee only plan I ‘ave right now.”

“He just came up with this on the fly,” Britain defended. “And it sounds pretty solid. We should stick with this unless we can brainstorm something else before we land…but…I think we’re landing in only another few minutes.”

And another thing Germany’s plan made Britain think about that he dared not mention to the others, was that it would delay the rescue by several _more_ hours. It couldn’t be helped. Britain couldn’t just pop in at the mentioned airport hours before physics would allow. Russia would know something fishy was going on for certain. They _had_ to wait. The length of another, entire, plane ride.

Arthur felt his heart twist in his chest all over again. It meant Alfred would be left with that psychopath that much longer. He knew that a plane ride from England to Moscow…was about four hours.

Another four hours of his first born being held by that crazed loon. And after the conversation he’d just had with Russia…Arthur had no idea what kind of things the ice nation was saying to his son.

And that reminded him. Britain lifted his head, focusing his green eyes on the younger twin.

 _I should have that bit of disturbing business cleared up right away,_ he thought. Certain that Russia was lying, making something grotesque up just to hurt America, Britain didn’t hesitate in asking.

“Matthew…Russia said some strange things to me on the tele. I’m certain he was just trying to upset me, but I have to ask…” He rested his emerald eyes on his quietest son. “You and Russia weren’t ever friends, were you?”

 

Matthew’s eyes widened with shock as he watched Britain falling apart across the way. He loved his family and hated not being able to do more for them than what he was currently doing. When he saw Britain pulling himself together he at least got a small sense of relief. He found himself glad that Germany came and spoke to them. What Germany was saying about the plans right now were true. They would have to go forward and they really could not afford to be falling apart right now, not with so much on the line.

Canada took a deep breath himself and tried to settle his nerves. He was starting to get back to normal. He would have to hope Alfred would be ok wherever he was. They would save him soon. He was about to face his fathers again when Britain asked his question about Russia.

Matthew’s eyes widened once more as a nervousness found its way onto his face. He looked back at Britain. His face said it all. He had something to hide, yes. Britain could also see Canada did not want to discuss that relationship more than he had to. Hesitantly Canada asked his father,

"What did he say?" Turning his head away. France looked between the two nations wondering what was going on, but he waited by Britain to see what his brother would say.

 

Britain’s green eyes widened with sudden surprise. He’d clearly been expecting a very resounding ‘no’ from his youngest son. He certainly hadn’t expected that _look_ to enter his lavender eyes, or for him to look away from him. It was as good an admission of guilt as anything.

 _Oh my God!_ He suddenly thought. His mind kicked into high gear and suddenly he was praying to himself that if Canada _had_ been friends with Russia at some point that it had at the very least been before the cold war, which would have been a very long time ago, considering the cold war had lasted from 1941 all the way up and into 1991!

 _No! It would need to be even earlier than that! It was only in 1920 that America withdrew from Russia during that conflict! Matthew would have remembered America returning defeated, one of his only defeats in his entire history!_   Britain then prayed Canada’s alleged ‘friendship’ was before then.

 _Oh no! Because before that was World War I! And America was fighting Russia then too!_ That was the earliest account Britain could currently think of. But in all honesty, America had been enemies with Russia for as long as Britain could remember. And so…unless Canada’s friendship had been over a hundred years ago…it was a direct betrayal of his brother.

 _Oh my God! Oh my God!_ Britain broke out into a sweat. Staring in disbelief at his son, he then knew that he _had_ to ask the other question that was plaguing him. He glanced briefly to Germany and France. Shaking, he stood up from where he’d been seated.

“Francis, Ludwig…could you excuse us a moment?” Germany’s cool eyes watched the scene unfold before him. But when he was asked, he simply walked away without any fuss. France however was looking much more worried.

“Angleterre…”

“Please…this is important. I’ll fill you in later.” France still looked awfully hesitant, but he listened. Stepping out of the bathroom, he passed his youngest. He glanced Canada’s way briefly, his expression conflicted, and then he moved back towards his seat.

Once the others were gone, Britain reached out, grabbing his youngest. He pulled him into the tiny bathroom with him and then shut the door. The two countries were nose to nose considering the space they were crammed into. As such, Matthew could see the intensity in Britain’s suddenly wide green eyes.

“I have only two questions for you,” he said. “What year did this take place, and was this relationship of yours with Russia intimate?”

 

Matthew almost choked on his own tongue as Britain asked a suddenly wild question that seemed completely out of left field. Canada stared, his lavender eyes wide with shock. Cheeks pinkening he lifted his hands and shook his head.

“Wh…wh…what are you saying? Why would I ever-! I… _no_!” He almost shrieked with alarm. “It was never anything like that! I just…I…”

Canada quickly looked away from Britain, that same hint of shame re-entering his eyes from earlier.

“I…I was friends with him…for a little while…in the….the late nineteen sixties... and…the early seventies. We didn’t see each other too much but…he did…help me out a few times.” But then Matthew quickly lifted his head to face his father once more to make sure he understood that despite his friendship, there had never been anything intimate between him and Russia.

“But we _never_ did anything like you’re suggesting! Why would you even say something like that?”

 

Britain sighed heavily. Lifting a hand, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes in concentration. He was having a hard time believing his youngest had once been friends with Russia. But…he could also somewhat sort of understand it due to the time period they were discussing.

The sixties and seventies were bad times for the twin’s relationship. The boys had been fighting constantly in those days, and disagreed on quite a few things. America had been dealing with a plethora of issues in his country including The Cold War, The Vietnam War, and the assassination of his president, and also Martin Luther King Jr.

Drugs had also been rampant in America at the time and…Britain was sad to remember that Alfred himself had been hooked on drugs too.

It hadn’t been entirely Alfred’s fault. Country persona’s tended to do and act the way the majority of their citizens did. And so much of America’s youth, the age group Alfred most associated himself with, were on drugs too. It was hard for a country to resist such a thing, especially since Alfred was dealing with so much and was so incredibly stressed with things like human rights for blacks and voting right for women and Woodstock and a slew of other things on top of all the assassinations and wars he was a part of.

All the same, it had driven the boys apart from one another, and it made Alfred almost completely unavailable to Matthew. Britain himself had been busy with his own countries issues at the time, _and_ he’d been strictly focused on helping America through his too. Britain, having once suffered the same drug problem, had been there with his oldest, trying to clean him up.

And so…Canada had been practically cut off from his family. He had no one. And few friends. Perhaps…that was why he would go to Russia. Even though Russia was America’s enemy.

 _Maybe it was because he was his enemy,_ he thought. _Maybe he was angry with Alfred…and sought the company of someone else who was angry too?_ Britain wasn’t sure. But whatever Canada’s reasons were, Britain still knew that this type of news would hurt America deeply. It was still a betrayal, even if it had been a long time ago.

 _Well…at least Russia’s lying about that business about having slept with him._ Arthur shuddered just at the thought. _But even so…he’s probably telling America the same lie. And if Alfred believes something like that…it…it would crush him…_     

 

Matthew saw his father’s face. He watched his green eyes as he thought. And he could practically see the very things he was worrying about. Matthew winced. He’d tried so hard to keep that old friendship a secret…because he knew very well what that type of news would mean to his brother.

 

"A-arthur. I. I didn't…I didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially not Al. I…my…my boss. My boss at the time ordered me to go and make friends with Russia. He was afraid of the Cold War, and he felt that Canada siding with Russia was the safest bet for us. We…we didn’t want to get caught in the middle.”

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut as things that had been long since buried came bubbling to the surface. The worst thing of all was that his brother was caught in the middle of it all now. 

That time with Russia had been so long ago. He hadn't even been an autonomous country then. Something Alfred had thrown in his face on more than one occasion during those days.

Matthew wasn't sure about the things to come. He had been more than ready to face Russia on his own. He had never counted on Alfred going to such extremes and switching places with him. Everything had fallen apart so fast.

Matthew took a deep breath and looked back into his father’s eyes.

"I never thought he would try to take my place. I just want to go help him. Let me help him and then Alfred can do or say whatever he wants." He took another shaky breath and tried to bring his emotions back under control. It took another moment, but he succeeded this time. His eyes hardened a bit, and he looked back at his father.

"I didn't think this through, but I am going to fix this." He said honestly. He could apologize, yes; and he would. He would apologize to them all. Over and over. Alfred especially. He would apologize for the rest of his life if that would make it right, but he couldn't change what was happening right now. If he could he would have gladly done it. If some magic words could switch his place with his brother's he would have said them in a heartbeat, but standing in a bathroom nose to nose with his father and dredging through all the things that had led to him and Ivan being friends would accomplish nothing. It had been many years ago, and it wasn’t something he’d readily thought about. He’d made a mistake. A big one, but he wouldn’t let it unsettle him right now. He needed to act now.

"Give me your phone." Matthew held his hand out for his father's phone. He had a sudden look of determination in his eyes as he thought of something.

 

But Britain looked positively alarmed at that suggestion.

“Why? You can’t call Russia. He has no idea that you’re even aware of this situation. If you call him now you could give us away,” Britain said. “Unless…I suppose you could tell him that I informed you I was going to go pick up America at his house…but…”

Britain sighed, putting a hand to his forehead.

“Just tell me what it is you’re planning.”

 

"I'm not calling from your phone. I just need the number." Matthew reached into his own pocket to pull out his own phone. "I'm going to tell him the truth." Matthew opened his phone and got ready to punch in the number, "I'll say that Gilbert asked me to come to Russia's house. Alfred freaked out. Knocked me over the head and is impersonating me. I will also tell him I followed them as soon as I woke up, and he needs to come get me from the airport. Now. That keeps him away from America. It would be best to limit their interactions until I can explain what happened back then to Alfred myself."

Matthew said with conviction, "It will be enough to keep Alfred safe for now. I'll call Russia now and say I'm about to land. You, France, and Germany are more than enough to go check on the tracker. See what's happening there, and I will go find out what is happening with America."

 

“No! Absolutely not!” Britain cried. He may have been incredibly angry with Matthew, but he still loved him and was desperate to keep him safe after losing his first son. “Germany is right in saying we should all stay together! I will not have you run into some snake pit all by yourself! Besides…” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his blonde hair, which was, quite frankly, loaded with sweat by that point.

 

"It's the best thing to do Britain. If I tell Russia I'm coming, and I go he'll really have no further time for interaction with America. We're close to landing, and he'd have to come get me right now. It will keep America safe. Don't worry about me." Matthew carefully bent down going after Britain's cell phone. He held his phone up to his father. That same determined look in his eyes.

"I'm going Britain. You can't stop me. The worst part about Alfred knowing isn't the fact that he knows. I'm sure Russia told him why I was friends with him in the first place. I never wanted him to find out about that." Matthew sighed heavily. " Don't worry. I'll go wait with America. You will all be coming shortly anyway. What's a few hours, eh?"

 

Britain’s green eyes sparked with alarm. Immediately, he reached out, snagging his phone back from his son.

“I said no!” He cried. “If you disappear into that ice country along with all the other countries that have gone missing I’ll never forgive myself! Russia’s eating us all up one by one! Like…like crisps! Disappearing into the belly of his snow country! I think…I think he may be collecting countries for some sick reason. He already has three hostages, and he’s asked me to come to his house next! You would just be another prize!” Britain cried.

“We can’t split up! No good would come of him having another victim to play with. We will all go get Alfred together. Besides…if that tracker doesn’t work for us…we’ll need you to sense Alfred’s whereabouts. You can do that with your twin power can’t you?”

 

Matthew knew he could. He could sense Alfred in some way no matter where his twin was was. But…for the moment, that wasn’t his goal. Right now, he needed to get to Russia’s as soon as possible in order to protect his brother. There was no way he was going to wait for the entire rescue team to go search for some tracker in the snow and then wait several more hours for Britain to pretend to land at a different airport.

Alfred needed help. And he needed help now.

Without a word, and without explaining himself, Matthew turned away from Britain and started to open the bathroom door. He wasn't so surprised when France who had been leaning against the door came falling into the bathroom. In fact, he’d known he’d been there, and it was part of his escape plan.

Matthew squashed himself around his French father and popped out into the hallway of the airplane as Britain blinked in confusion, both of Matthew’s fathers now in the bathroom.

“Canada? Where are you going? I’m not done talking to you young man!”

Matthew turned and looked at his fathers, his lavender eyes oddly very serious.

"I'll get a second tracker from Germany. You can have the third. With both of us having them there's no way we can miss. He'll have to stay at the same house from the time he picks me up to the time you come. It's the best idea.”

Sensing then that Matthew was going to do something outrageous, Britain tried to push past France who was in his way. But, of course, the bathroom was just too small. So instead he cried out,

“Frog! Don’t let him get away!” France, not really knowing what was going on because he hadn’t overheard much, but knowing enough to stop his son, moved toward the door.

 Matthew was ready though and pushed France into the bathroom blocking his shorter father inside and then he slammed the door shut. As the stewardess went to pass by with her push cart he shoved it in front of the bathroom door blocking his father's inside.

"I'll be ok. Papa. You take care of mom. I'll get Al back for you Arthur. Don't worry about me. I'll fix what I messed up." He knocked on the door as a way of saying goodbye then ran up towards the front of the plane to see Germany. Once he found the German nation he looked him in the eye.

"Britain and France are going with you. I'm going to go keep Russia away from the others so they'll be safe until you three can come get us. Give me Russia's number and give me one of the additional trackers. Ok?"

 

Germany blinked up at Canada from his seat where he’d finally sat back down. He wasn’t stupid. He could easily hear the complete and utter racket Britain and France were making in the bathroom. Mostly Britain…but France was simply getting shoved around because the space was so small. But still, there weren’t many people on the plane, so Germany could easily hear Britain screaming in his complete panic from the tiny room and really…it sounded like he was slamming his body against the door in a desperate attempt to stop his youngest son.

Glancing back, Germany saw the food cart in front of the door. And really…he had no idea why the stewardess wouldn’t move it. Perhaps she was in shock from the racket Britain was making.

Bing!

The fasten seatbelt sign came on above their seats. And when it did, Germany heard the crackle of the loud speaker. The captain came on and instructed everyone to please sit down and buckle up, for they were coming in for the landing. Germany had flown plenty of times before. As such, he knew it would take them a good fifteen to twenty more minutes to land their plane and then taxi to the gate they needed. Britain and France would be out of the bathroom in another moment once the stewardess got her cart under control.

Germany knew he had a very quick decision to make.

 _Vhatever keeps Italy safest…or gets him rescued fastest…is vhat I’ll do._ He thought to himself. If Matthew ran off to go meet Russia…it certainly would distract the larger nation and keep his attention away from the hostages he already had, but…the plan Germany had overheard didn’t sound all that stable to him. It increased the risk of the rescue team being discovered.

America hadn’t spilt their secret yet, that much was clear. But what about Canada? Germany looked him over, sizing him up. He was known for being quiet, and neutral in conflicts, never really picking sides very often. And he seemed weak…what if he gave away their plan? Then Italy would never be rescued.

More over…Germany _hated_ what he’d heard about Matthew having a previous relationship with the country that currently held his boyfriend hostage. Germany didn’t know Matthew the way Britain or France did. And he was naturally the mistrusting type as it was anyway. There was always a chance that Matthew was a mole. And if that was the case…Germany would only be sending another enemy Italy’s way.

Besides…Matthew was clearly very upset and unstable. Not exactly a good condition to be in when coming up with plans, or preparing to meet an enemy.

Very coldly, his blue eyes as stoic as ever, Germany glanced to the side.

“You’re too upzet. You’re not thinkink things through. Ve don’t even know vhich country Russia is even truly after at dis point. In zee state you’re in…you’ll jeopardize zee mission.”

 

"I can go with or without any of your help. My brother is not at the location you are heading to. I do know that. Right now, I can get a general idea of where Alfred is. I want to keep all three of them safe, Germany. If I go Russia will be distracted for a bit. It doesn't matter which country he's after. I can distract him. I can easily stall until you three go investigate the other tracker and then come back. I want to call Russia to keep him away from the others. I can make him come get me. I can get us time. That's what we need. I don't care if I'm emotionally unstable. Aren't we all? Shouldn't we be?"

Matthew shoulders slumped, "I may not be unable to undo what I did back then, but I can do something now. I can help Alfred, Feliciano, and Gilbert. Please help me do that."

He stared at the other nation with a solid resolve. This was his last attempt at trying to get help from the current rescue party. If this failed he would simply do it by himself consequences be damned. He wanted to help as much as he could and if he distracted Russia for a few hours that would be for the best. As the stewardess tried to move her cart from where Canada had jammed it the usually quiet nation raised his hand to grab her attention.

"Please leave that there! I'll let them out in a few minutes, ma’am!" The poor stewardess ran to the back of the plane to get away from all the crazy men.

 

Germany took another look at Matthew as he sized him up a second time. As untrusting as he was…he always had felt he was a very good judge of character, and in holding Canada’s stare as he was…he felt the earnestness coming off the smaller country. He believed that Canada really did want to keep the hostages safe.

Glancing back and behind him, Germany looked to the bathroom door. Britain was still screaming, and the door was being violently attacked as the small island nation rammed himself into it.

 _Britain vill never forgive me if I do dis…_ he thought. But even as he did, his pounding heart still beat painfully for Italy’s sake. He was so terribly worried about him, and he was so afraid of him being hurt. What if Russia decided he was bored with America and wanted to go beat on somebody else for a change? Italy was right there, and easily accessable.

But if Germany gave Canada a tracker and Russia’s phone number…he could indeed go and distract the cruel country until the rest of them could arrive.

It may have been selfish…but Ludwig would rather have Canada be hurt than his Feliciano. He would rather put the shy northern country in front of that monster than have Feliciano be in danger. And if Canada wanted to do this then…it would be easier to just say yes, and think that Italy would be safer until he could arrive to go get him.  

Ludwig was sure he was just being paranoid again, and he was sure he was making a terrible mistake, but with a sigh, he turned to Matthew. Quickly, he reached into his pocket. Grabbing one of the trackers, he shoved it roughly into the Canadian’s hand.

“Take dis, quickly…” And as soon as the tracker was secure, he then forcefully grabbed Canada’s phone out of his hands. Punching in the buttons to Russia’s number, Germany programmed it into Canada’s phone. Then, urgently, he shoved it back into his palms.

“You go unt den you _stay_ dere until ve can come get you. Don’t try anythink on your own. Don’t attempt to rescue anyvon, don’t try to be a hero like your bruder. You go find dem and den you _stay_!” He barked at Canada like the commander he was.

And of course, as soon as Canada had gotten what he needed, the plane took a terrible dip in order to come in for the landing. Germany heard Britain and France tumble over one another in the rest room, making another loud racket.

“ _Get off of me, FROG!_ ” He heard Britain shriek. And then the tell-tale “hon hon hon!” Of France’s perverted laughter. Clearly France had ‘accidentally’ fallen in a probably inappropriate way. Canada of course had to grab onto the arm rests on either side of the aisle in order to even remain on his feet.

“If you’re lucky…the stevardess may make dem stay in dere now dat ve’re landink…”

 

Canada nodded in agreement with Germany. If Britain got out before he was gone he would flip out. His mother was small, but he was fierce. Canada didn’t want to fight his way off the plane. He slowly staggered his way to a seat on the other side of the aisle away from Germany.

"Don't worry Germany. We'll get them back. Feliciano, Gilbert, and Alfred."

He gave Germany one last reassuring look. Then the plane shuttered as it started to come into contact with asphalt.

As soon as the plane was on the ground Matthew headed towards the front of the plane. He was already dialing his phone as he went and disappeared from Germany's view only moments later.

 


	22. Chapter 22: Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canada finds his brother, but it may be too late. This chapter contains torture, psychological torture, Canada's anger, physical violence, and language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I realized I had dropped off the face of the Earth and left you all hanging. I had planned on getting the other chapters out at the end of July. Unfortunately, I went into septic shock and almost died. After a stint in the ICU and a few surgeries I am back. That is why the huuuuuge gap in the posting of chapters. I am finally back up, and I hope to get the rest of this story up. All that said I skimmed the revisions of this chapter, so it may have more typos than normal. I also split this chapter into two parts relating to characters. 
> 
> If I missed any wording (because originally we went back and forth between scenes) I am sorry.

Chapter 22  
Broken   
(Canada & America)

America was left alone for what must have seemed like an eternity in his dreary, stone prison. Only the photos of his brother’s crimes keeping him company. 

Matthew had returned to the airport once he was certain the other three nations were gone. He waited out front in the snow for Russia to come. His stomach was knotted up with a sense of dread, but it wasn’t because of Russia. He wanted his brother to be safe. He hoped America knew they were coming.   
He took a deep breath. A nice puff of steam coming from his mouth. Britain had asked about his relationship with Russia on the plane. He had never been interested in sleeping with Russia. He had visited Russia’s home. He remembered all the terrified subordinates Russia had in his homes during the seventies. When he had visited Russia’s home on business trips those quiet nations like Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania had kept him from getting lonely or overly petrified. The world had been a lot different in those days. As far as he could recall, nothing had happened during his business trips that would even remotely be the business of his family. Those trips had been all business. Nothing personal.   
All nations had to take care of business and Mathew knew his family understood that. When his boss had gone to Russia he had to go as well, but he by no recollection had done anything that would have hurt his brother. He had even worked diligently on his brother’s behalf trying to ease tensions between the two countries. He had never told Alfred about it because he knew his brother would feel guilty that his brother had been trying to help and protect him during a time when he’d been a mess. He also never liked making any of his family members worry. It was all part of his quiet nature.   
He generally ate with Russia and his subordinates. He couldn’t think of anything phenomenal that had happened. There had been a party one night, and he’d gotten sick that evening. Matthew’s breathing hitched for a moment. He’d had no recollection of a lot of that night. Alcohol had been involved, but it hadn’t been a lot. Lithuania had assured him that nothing had happened when he woke up. He felt his breathing stop for a moment. He hadn’t thought about it since, and it probably would have remained forgotten. Maybe there was more too it than that?   
It was a moment later when Russia pulled up to the airport and Canada steeled his nerves and walked to the car. The trip back to Russia’s was a nerve-wracking and filled with silence. Matthew had tried to ask about his brother, Italy, or Gilbert. Russia had remained silent with only a smile on his face. He was not divulging any information. He watched Russia leave the car and head towards the home. Russia only smiled as he unlocked the front door.  
“Come Comrade Matvey. Your brother is in the room you used when you were here last.”  
Matthew didn’t have to be told twice. He bolted towards the place he thought his brother was. He just had to see him. He got to Alfred’s prison and called out his twin’s name frantically before he ever got the door open.   
Russia came over, opening the lock for him, and Matthew ran into his brother’s cell, his heart freezing over and falling to the floor.  
“Oh mon deiu! Al!” He ran to his brother’s side falling to his knees beside his twin, “Alfred!” He reached out to put his hands on his injured brother’s shoulders while he glared back at Russia. “What did you do? You didn’t have to hurt him! Why is he tied up! Alfred. Hold on I’ll get you lose.”  
Russia laughed from the doorway.  
“I just did what you wanted Matvey.”  
Matthew’s eyebrows lowered at the statement. What was Russia trying to say?  
“What in the hell are you talking about? Where is Gilbert? Where is Italy? Why did you hurt my brother? Go get some ice or something! He’s bleeding!”

But Matthew most certainly wouldn’t have been prepared for Alfred’s reaction to his presence. As soon as his twin entered his prison, Alfred could have died. Even seeing him now was so incredibly painful he would have preferred another beating.   
His face warped when Canada came near him. It twisted further still when he knelt beside him, pretending as if he cared he were hurt. That’s what was the most agonizing. Matthew was still acting as if he cared…  
It was too much. Trembling, Alfred flinched and tried to pull away from his brother as he extended his hands to him to touch him. Hissing in pain, he recoiled.  
“Stop…” he groaned in misery, fresh tears filling his eyes, which were still very red and puffy from his most recent misery. “Just stop…please…” he begged. “You’ve done enough…I can’t take anymore…just…just go away…” 

“Eh?” Matthew blinked, but he pulled his hand away. He immediately misunderstood what his brother was saying. How hard had Alfred been hit in the head? “Al. It’s me. I came to take you home. Ok. Just let me untie you. You’re a mess.” This time Canada reached out for his brother’s bound hands to untie them. “I’m not Russia. It’s me. Canada” Maybe his brother was having a hard time seeing him or something?

Alfred flinched a second time as Canada reached for him. He hissed from the pain of simply trying to move away from him. Glaring at his brother through the agony he suddenly shouted,  
“I know who you are you asshole! You can just stop! Stop pretending that you care about me!” His tears spilt over, trailing down his face all over again. He turned his head away, seemingly unable to even look at Matthew anymore.  
“Russia told me everything…I…I…I just wanted…” but he was too upset to finish his sentences. It looked like he were struggling not to simply collapse into sobs all over again as he had earlier.   
“Traitor!” He suddenly screamed. “Traitor! Traitor! You…you! How? How could you do this to me? I…I…” But Alfred couldn’t say the words. He couldn’t say that he loved him. He just couldn’t.   
“Hit me if you want. Go ahead! But don’t…don’t-! Don’t you fucking dare act like you care about me!” 

Matthew’s eyes widened as he stared in shock at his twin. He flinched each time his brother called him a traitor. It caused a slight burning sensation in his eyes as they started to tear up. The pain was horrid, but it quickly turned to anger. He turned around from his brother and shot his glare towards the other lurking country in the room.  
“Qu'est-ce que tu as fait!” (What did you do!?)  
He jumped up off of the floor and stood in front of his brother glaring at Russia. Germany had told him to just stay at the house and wait, but he couldn’t ignore this. Alfred was falling apart in front of him, and the cause of his brother’s pain was right in front of him. Russia smiled from the doorway.  
“Don’t vorry comrade. I simply told him truth. I can’t believe you never told him.”  
Matthew looked down at his brother once more. He had no idea what Russia was talking about, and he didn’t care. It only took one look at his brother for his rage to grow to an uncontrollable point. He reached up unbuttoning his jacket. The tracker was in a concealed location in the lining of the coat. As long as Alfred kept his coat, he’d eventually be found. With a quick motion he laid the coat over his brother and hoped it would at least help him stay a bit warmer while he dealt with Russia. Then he turned his attention back to the large country across the room. Much like his twin had done earlier he ran at Russia and tried to hit him in the face. A move Russia dodged, but Canada quickly jumped back and out of Russia’s reach as the ice nation came after him.

America didn’t know what Canada was doing. He was so confused and in so much pain it was hard to keep anything straight. His brain felt scrambled. America couldn’t move, so he was pretty much forced to receive the coat.   
It smelt like his twin. And it was still warm from his body heat. It was somehow both extremely comforting and horrifically torturous at the same time.   
And then, something even more confusing happened: Canada attacked Russia. America blinked.  
Wh…what is he doing? He honestly was so lost and so confused, his mind and body both scrambled beyond repair that he had no idea what was happening anymore. A…aren’t they lovers? Why’re they fighting? 

Canada stared at his opponent his gaze intense. He had to protect his brother. He usually did such things diplomatically and without his brother’s knowledge, but now that he was in this fight he needed to stall for time even if he couldn’t win. I can’t lose. He’ll get at Alfred again. I don’t think Al can take anything else, and I don’t know how to fix what Russia has already done to him. When Russia didn’t chase him down to attack him again Canada had to move forward and try to hit his opponent once more. He wished that he’d paid more attention to his brother during those wrestling lessons Alfred had given him.   
The fight kept going on. As Matthew came forward once more Russia dodged to the side throwing Matthew off balance. The wavy haired twin was caught off guard as he stumbled forward and he was suddenly grabbed from behind. He felt Russia wrap his arms around his waist and with the force of a freight train Russia shoved Matthew back out of the room. The two nations stumbled out into the hallway where Matthew found himself pinned between the wall and Russia. Russia raised his knee and hit him in the stomach. Matthew felt himself cry out, but he wasn’t done yet. He was far from done. He pushed himself away from Russia and backed up a few feet to get some distance between them.

After Canada and Russia left the room in the midst of their fight, Alfred lay silently. He didn’t even really have the willpower to think about what had just taken place. He didn’t want to think. He couldn’t think.   
Instead, he curled up just a bit more tightly, as much as his wounds and his bonds would allow him to, and then turned his head to bury his nose in the collar of Canada’s jacket. It was at least keeping him a bit warmer than before, although lying on the freezing floor, he still shivered.   
Inhaling, he took in the scent of his twin. The smell may have broken his heart a bit further, but he could hardly keep himself from breathing it in. Despite recent developments…it still reminded him of home and a happier time. And so it was a bittersweet pain than enveloped him as he waited for something else to be done with him.   
After having broken free of Russia, Matthew had managed to hit the lumbering giant a few more times while avoiding Russia's attacks. They had fought their way out of the hallway and into the living room leaving a trail of disaster in their wake. At the moment Canada stood between the end of the couch and the wall. He was prepared to dodge in front of the couch and throw as many things as he could get his hands on at Russia while using the couch as a barricade. That was his plan if Russia chose to rush him.   
Matthew found himself breathing heavily as he waited in anticipation of Russia's move. While he waited his face scrunched up with anger once more as he thought back on his brother's heartbreaking face. He'd never seen his brother so torn up, and he'd seen America at his worst. He felt a low, quiet growl in the back of his throat as anger flared once more within him.  
"What did you do to America? What did you do to my brother?" He yelled. His quiet voice still didn't carry far, but Russia had heard Canada.  
Russia smiled at his new captive in front of him. He had planned on Canada being here since the beginning, and he had already gotten revenge on America. It was now time to focus on his original intended target.  
"I did nothing that you didn't start first Comrade. You made it too easy for me. I just told America some of your little secrets from way back when."  
"You told him lies!" Canada screamed. "I have never betrayed my brother! I never did anything to betray him. Not even close! I tried to reason with you for his sake while I was here! What lies did you tell him? What did you do to him to make him say that garbage?"  
"Maybe you trust me a bit too much Matvey. You should never sleep when your enemy is nearby. It could be vyour undoing." He smirked at Canada, but he didn't carry out the conversation longer. Instead he rushed forward his purple scarf trailing through the air behind him like some type of battle flag. Canada jumped to his side rolling out of the way just in the nick of time. Russia delivered a punch into the wall. His fist broke through the plaster like it were mere paper.   
Canada grabbed glasses, cups, and dishes off of the living room table and threw them at Russia. He threw anything he could find from his position on the floor. He quickly got back to his feet as Russia pulled his hand from the wall. It became apparent Russia was getting serious when he reached beneath his coat and pulled out the same weapon that had been the demise of his brother. Russia held the long metal pipe in one hand and then for a very long, silent moment raised and lowered it into his free palm.   
Shit. Was all Matthew could think as Russia quickly raised the weapon above his head. Russia ran forward and sent the pipe crashing through the floor. Matthew managed to scramble out of the weapons reach, but a moment later it was coming towards him again. He knew he couldn't dodge it this time. With a cry he raised his hands and caught the pipe as it fell. He ignored the pain that went racing through his hands and forearms and instead focused on keeping a firm hold on the weapon. It's just a tiny metal hockey stick damnit! Don't you dare let him beat you at this! He screamed at himself.   
Russia's arms shook as he tried to bring the weapon down, but Matthew held onto the pipe firmly while he tried to pull the weapon away from Russia and also keep it from cracking his skull open. Matthew knew he couldn't beat Russia on bare strength alone even if this situation reminded him of his favorite sports game. Russia was large, strong, and powerful. If Matthew kept this up his strength would run out long before Russia's. Hoping that something would go his way he wrenched the pipe down, then sharply up, twisting it as he went. He managed to pry the weapon lose from Russia and ran back a few feet towards the beginning of the hallway. Breathing heavily he held the pipe out fully ready to use it on the other nation. His ears were ringing and his eyes were focused as he targeted Russia.  
"You are going to release my brother, Italy, and Gilbert!"  
Russia only smiled at Canada.  
"Comrade Matvey. Vwhy would I do such a silly thing? I finally have so many guests. I cannot just let you all leave." He took a step towards Canada, but Matthew quickly brought the pipe up to use as a weapon if Russia dare come any closer. He watched Russia's smiling face intently. It was creepy. He was so busy watching Russia that he wasn't aware of anybody else's presence until two very strong arms suddenly wrapped around his neck and squeezed tightly.  
Matthew's eyes bugged at the new presence. The momentary distraction allowed Russia the time he needed to rush forward and rip the pipe from Matthew's hands. His cold purple eyes glared down at the Northern twin. With that one look Matthew suddenly realized how much trouble he was in.  
"See comrade. I am not so alone anymore." Russia said with another smile as his new comrade began to squeeze Canada's neck with agonizing strength.  
Matthew's hands went up to the two arms around his neck and he tried to pull them loose, but the new nation wasn't letting up. Russia smiled as he watched Canada slowly run out of air.  
"Good job Comrade, North Korea don't let up. I didn't think Canada would get so annoying as to take my favorite weapon away. We should teach him lesson, da?"  
Canada felt his eyes widen as he saw Russia raise the pipe once more. There was nothing he could do as it was brought down and slammed across his abdomen making him double over in pain. He would have fully collapsed to the floor if North Korea hadn't been so firmly attached to his neck. He collapsed to his knees trying to gasp for air. All the while North Korea never let up on his neck starving him of oxygen. Matthew's face was quickly changing colors as he felt himself blacking out. As he saw Russia raise the pipe once more he hoped that Britain would come save America soon. He also hoped that Alfred didn't have the twin sense to feel the pain he was about to be in. Italy's room unlocked and in came China and North Korea. The ancient country looked more than a bit agitated by the current events. He was looking at North Korea with a disapproving look when they walked in. When Italy looked at North Korea he immediately saw Canada was a disaster in his arms. Although most of his injuries were hidden beneath his tattered shirt the amount of blood running from the Northern twin's mouth and the gasping, wheezing noise he was making quickly betrayed that he was somehow seriously wounded despite the lack of physical evidence.  
China looked to Italy and waved him over.  
"Ei-yah. Disaster of day. Italy you need to watch him for little while. I afraid he choke to death if no one is watching him. We take him back in little bit."  
North Korea lay Canada down on the bed in Italy's room. On his back Canada quickly started to gag on the blood in his mouth and choke from the way he was laying.   
"He go too far." China grumbled as he walked over and shoved North Korea aside in agitation, "We didn't want to kill Canada. We still need him." China rolled the younger North American twin onto his side where he immediately began coughing an alarming amount of blood onto the once beautiful sheets. China looked back at Italy, "Italy. You need to make sure he no move."  
North Korea only laughed.  
"He won’t die. What if America sees him? America won’t care. Soon Britain won’t care either. This is great. After today nobody will care what happens to him so he can stay with us. I still no believe he slept with Russia."  
China shot another look at the younger nation to his left that said 'shut up'. When Italy finally made it over China made sure that the trembling nation was holding Canada in the correct places to keep him on his side so he could continue to breath. Then China stepped back and away from the two younger nations.  
"We come get him soon Italy." With that the two oriental nations left the room leaving an unconscious, trembling Canada in Italy's hands. Italy could see through the tears in Matthew's shirt that most of the hits he'd taken had been directly to his rib cage, abdomen, and neck. It was also easy to tell that many of his ribs were broken a few were visually out of place. Russia hadn't taken it easy on the gentle nation. All Italy could do was hold the unconscious twin as a large, alarming pool of red started to form below Canada's mouth.

Italy just wasn’t sure if it could get any worse, or if it could be any more terrifying. He hadn’t even known that Russia had allies with China and North Korea. With two other countries in the house, it brought their enemies numbers up to three. And Russia was a force to be reckoned with all on his own being the largest county in the world. And with Gilbert out of commission and both North American twins too injured to fight, Italy knew that the rescue team’s numbers had diminished to three. It would be one on one now. Instead of the overwhelming odds in their favor as before…it now seemed like…they may not even win at all.  
Italy knew Germany was a fighter. He would fight to the bitter end, and he was a tough son-of-a-bitch. Very difficult to take down. But…he wasn’t invincible. If France was defeated early on (as he was sure he would be) then it would just be Germany and Britain. And Britain, as fierce was he was…was rather small. Could he stand up to Russia who was practically twice his size?  
Italy just didn’t know. And suddenly…he was very, very worried about all his friends.  
Carefully, his hands trembling wildly, he climbed up onto the bed with Matthew. He was very careful to keep his neck straight as shown, and to make sure he was breathing properly. But once he was sure he’d done all he could, he reached out and brushed the other countries golden bangs aside.   
“I’m so-a-sorry…” he whispered to him. “This is…this is all-a-my fault. I got myself-a-captured and now everyone is…” His sweet face crumpled all over again as it had numerous times throughout his ordeal. Fresh tears sprung to his eyes. He was simply horrified by all the violence that was happening all around him. And being who he was, he could do little to stop it.   
Carefully, he tried to at least comfort Canada. He’d always felt like out of all the other countries, perhaps he and Canada were most alike. They were both peaceful, and more concerned with everyday things than the wars and finances that everyone else talked about. They didn’t really bother with all the fuss and hubbub of the world meetings. Canada liked his snow and his pancakes and Italy was more involved with art and music than battle.   
How could anyone-a hurt Canada? He wondered in dismay. He never-a-bothered-a anyone…   
Italy continued to carefully brush his bangs aside, trying his best to at least make Canada feel safe.   
“Don’t-a-worry…” he told him, even though tears were still running down his cheeks. “Ludwig and-a Britain and-a France are coming to get us!” He smiled for the northern country, but it was a strained, sad looking smile, and he wasn’t sure Canada could see him anyway. He was fairly unconscious.   
Ludwig will come-a-get us. He reassured himself again. Even if Russia captures everyone else, Ludwig will-a-come and save us! He’d do it all-a-on his own if he had to! And Italy was sure of it. Germany was terrifying when he was truly, genuinely mad. And unlike other countries…his anger didn’t get in his way. It only fueled the fire.   
He was cold and calculating. And when pushed enough, he figured out ways to get what he wanted. He didn’t let his emotions rule him. He instead stopped, and thought about his moves, his strategies. And Italy had seen him in the midst of the most hellish battles the world had ever seen and still manage to keep it together, and devise brilliant plans on how to get out of a bad situation and also take down enemies at the same time.  
If he was on his own…Italy knew…he would still manage to take out Korea, China and even Russia, one by one if he had to.  
Please be safe… Italy prayed.


	23. 23. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes to a breaking point when the rescue is put into motion.

Chapter 23  
Rescue

 

At the airport Russia had arrived to pick up the island nation. He pulled up smiling in a new jacket and scarf as he waved at Britain with a merry expression, "Good day Comrade Britain. Thank you for coming so soon. I am greatly in need of your services."

Britain knew he had to keep his cool. At least until he got to the house. His teammates would only be a few minutes behind him. Fifteen at most. Until then, he had to keep up the act until he could find his sons. And he was desperate. Russia couldn’t tell. Coolly, and calmly, bag of clothes in hand, Britain stepped up to the car. Sliding into the passenger’s seat, he placed his bag by his feet.  
“I’m surprised at this strange development,” he said to the larger country.   
“I tried to call Canada about that strange thing you said to me, but he didn’t pick up his phone.”   
Russia looked over at Britain, "Canada was at vmine house already. He came looking for America. I am sure you probably missed Comrade Matvey at airport. He and his brother have very big fight I am afraid.”  
“I suppose I’ll just have to ask America about it and get his side of the story.” Britain sighed, then glanced out the window as if he were nothing more than a frustrated parent, with his hands full of ill-behaved children. Inside…he was a wreck. Treachery had always been common place in the realm of nations and politics. Britain often told stories of the dark ages to both of his children. He also told them that they were too soft and would have never survived back in those days. Britain himself had been stabbed in the back, and he had also been the stabber before. While there were things outside of their control Britain had hoped his two son's would never know this kind of personal treachery.  
“America called Matvey ‘traitor’ and Matvey left in upset. I am sorry Comrade Britain. I have proof of what I said on the phone and when America demanded it, I showed him. He wants nothing to do with his brover. It is best you take America. He is inconsolable about this development." Russia said.  
Britain’s green eyes widened. He tried to keep himself calm. But even if he hadn’t known about what was taking place at Russia’s, he would have been upset.   
“What on earth!” He cried. “What kind of games are you playing at Russia? This all sounds quite unorthodox to me! As far as I know, neither of my sons have had much interest in you or your house at all until, all of a sudden, today! Now I hear they’re over there, fighting? They’ve been inseparable since November! What did you do?”   
And it was meant to sound accusatory. It was something Britain would say…if he wasn’t concerned for his own safety. And if he were too keep up the ruse, he’d be upset…but not yet worried about possibly being in danger. 

"Well truth has way of finding its way to the surface. This was just brought to my attention, why lie and say it never happen, when it did? I try to tell Comrade America it was the seventies and to not be too harsh on his brother, but America was very angry about our past relationship. As for Matvey, it was only once. In his defense I do not believe Comrade Matvey meant any ill will toward his brother at the time. I was just there. I had been taking care of him for a while and things just happened. There is no need to be angry, Britain. I am sure that America will forgive his brover in no time."   
They both knew that was a lie. America never tended to forget anything, and it took him long periods to forgive.   
Russia sighed heavily like the events of the day were weighing heavily on his mind,  
"I am sorry that I had to call you out for this, but I told you America is inconsolable. I vjust want you to be prepared. You are not angry I had relationship with Matvey, right? Surely you must understand."  
Britain let out a frustrated sigh, but then crossed his legs and went back to looking out of the window.  
“I already told you…it’s none of my business who my son’s sleep with. It is my business if they get hurt however.” He shot a nasty glare the Russian’s way. “And if other countries stir the pot between them.”

Back at Russia’s home, China came back into Italy's room. He walked over to the two nations and nodded his appreciation at Italy for watching Canada.  
"He still bleeding?"   
China raised his hand to his chin as he stared down at the other country. He had no desire to harm Canada, and he was not pleased to see the other country suffering like he was. The plan had not been to beat the quiet country senseless. Russia had started changing the original plan some time ago. Seeing Matthew still suffering while trying to breathe, China waved Italy off and went to pick up Canada. Try as China might when he lifted the unconscious nation Matthew groaned, gargled, and started to choke in China's arms as his position changed. China was glad that the actual land of Canada was fine in real life, it was keeping Matthew strong. China was sure that if Matthew was human he'd have been long since dead by now.  
“I will take him to the hospital.” China said before turning away from Italy.  
Italy wanted to trust China even though, he was technically on Russia’s side. The other country still seemed concerned for Canada’s health at least. That, and Italy was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop him anyway. So he let him take Canada. But as he was leaving, Italy couldn’t help but to ask.  
“Um…uhh…um…” he stuttered.   
China paused in the doorway, “What?”   
“Umm…do…do you know anything-a-about America? Is he…is he ok? I heard-a…e…earlier…Russia was…” But he didn’t finish. He glanced away and to the side, his lower lips quivering as he thought about it. “A…and now-a-Canada is…hurt too…” 

China stared back at Italy.  
"I have not seen America. Canada saw his brother. Whatever he saw was made Canada fight Russia. I heard Canada got upper hand on Russia for moment before North interfere. Is why Russia was so angry and do this to him."  
China looked down at the unconscious nation in his arms. Then he stepped out of the door and locked it. He, despite North Korea's protest, took Canada to his car and then started the long drive into town and then, the hospital.

Britain and Russia arrived outside of Russia's home without further incidence or discussion. When Russia opened the door to let Britain into his home the sight that greeted him was immediately gut wrenching. The living room was trashed. Furniture was knocked out of place. Broken glass littered the floor.  
Perhaps the worst thing that Britain saw was blood in the other nation’s living room. It was an abnormally large pool of blood that greeted him off in the center of the living room. Britain had no way of knowing whose blood it was, but it had to have belonged to one of his son's.   
Russia stared at the spot. It was where he had simply left Canada on the floor bleeding. He was a bit surprised the nation wasn’t still there. He was unaware China had moved him. Russia didn't bat an eyelash as he pointed Britain into the home and towards America's cell.  
"America is in that room." Britain would easily be able to unlatch the door and get inside to his older son. Britain stared at the scene. After a moment, he let out a gasp of horror.   
His heart froze in his chest as his green eye widened. He took in the sight; almost unwillingly as the color red overtook his vision. It seemed to be everywhere. Blood. It was smeared on the walls, on the furniture, and of course, it was all over the floor.  
He lifted a hand to cover his nose and mouth, not just because of his revulsion, but because of the smell. The stench of it was almost overpowering.   
Immediately, he whirled on Russia, his face filling with rage.  
“You call this a fight? Look at you! You have a few bruises! This is…this is a massacre! This was completely one sided! Anyone can tell by looking at it! What did you do to him? Did you just…just…beat him into the ground?”   
But he didn’t even need to finish. And Russia didn’t need to answer. As soon as Russia pointed to the room America was being kept in, Britain ran to the door, his heart pounding in his chest. Terrified for his son, and assuming the blood was America’s he immediately unlatched and opened the door. The hinges of the prison creaked horrifically as the door swung inward, and when it did…Britain’s breath got caught in his throat.  
The sight that met him in the stone room was far more horrifying than the sight in the living room. He’d seen it all in his long lifetime, and had witnessed things that belonged in hell, especially during the medieval ages. Still there was something about seeing one’s son in such a condition.  
“Alfred!” Britain ran into the prison without thinking, without considering or caring that Russia may just lock him inside too. He hardly cared. This was his son, and he had to go to him.  
“Oh!” He cried as he fell to his knees beside him. Reaching out, he immediately cupped Alfred’s bruised and battered face in his hands. “Oh! My boy! This is my boy!” He didn’t care to hide his emotions as Russia stood in the open doorway, watching the father and son interact. Tears immediately sprang to Arthur’s eyes and sparkled as they fell to the ice-cold floor.   
Alfred looked like hell. Britain looked him over quickly, but with even only a glance, he could see how bad it truly was. He didn’t even want to count the lacerations or the broken bones he saw. There was no doubt that these injuries were far too damaging to have been done by fists or skin. Britain instantly knew that Russia must have used that pipe of his.  
His heart twisted only further at the thought.   
It wasn’t fair.  
As tough as Alfred was…he couldn’t be expected to stand up to that kind of punishment.  
Looking to his body, Britain found Canada’s coat on top of his twin, thankfully keeping him warm in the frigid room. All the same, he saw his son shivering beneath it.   
“Dear Lord!” He cried again. And just having to know what he was dealing with, he took up the coat in his hands to take a gander at the rest of his wounds. Lifting it up and off of America, Britain found it sticking to him briefly from dried blood. As he peeled it back, he almost wanted to vomit.  
“Oh my god!” Underneath the garment was even more horror for him to see. Britain didn’t dwell on it too long, he just couldn’t, but it was plain to see that Alfred really didn’t even need to be tied up as he was. He wasn’t going anywhere. Britain knew then that Russia had tied him up for the simply pleasure of demoralizing him.  
Britain let out a quick sob. But knowing what his son needed most of all, he immediately got to work on his bonds. Grabbing at the tape, he started to pull. But still, despite his desperation to get it off, he moved slowly, and worked at it as gently as he could manage. In a few moments, he had Alfred’s ankles free…even though one of them…was clearly shattered.  
Moving on, Britain worked on his wrists, and in a few more moments, those were free too. With Alfred free from his bonds, Britain very tenderly laid Matthew’s coat back on top of him for comfort. He tucked the cloth in around him, just like he used to do when Alfred was a little boy and it was time for bed. Britain still knew what Alfred needed most. Moving back up to his face, he reached out again, cupping his bruised cheeks gently once more.   
“Alfred…” he said softly, trying to rouse him. Alfred started to gradually come around as Britain stroked his bruised cheeks in a fatherly way.   
“Alfred…” he said again. “Wake up, love. Let me see you’re ok.” Alfred’s eyelids fluttered at the sound of his father’s voice. It was comforting, and so warm and familiar compared to everything he’d been experiencing that he, for once, actually wanted to come back around. His blue eyes slowly opened. And when they focused on Britain, they wrinkled in confusion in seeing such a friendly face in such a hellish place. He stared at him in both exhaustion and confusion.  
“…dad?” He mumbled. And when Britain saw his blue eyes and heard his voice, he let out a broken laugh. Smiling, he nodded.  
“Yes! It’s me. You’re ok. You’re going to be just fine.” Reaching out, he very carefully, and as gently as a cloud scooped Alfred’s head up and into his lap so that he could hold him, comfort him, and keep him warm. And once he had him, he lovingly began running his fingers through his golden hair.   
“There we are,” he said softly.   
Alfred, in hearing such a warm voice, and receiving such familiar touch, immediately started to feel more at ease. Britain was his father. And his father was here with him. And as tough and as grown-up as children grew to be…when the world went to hell and there was no one else to turn to…parents were always the go to people. And in such extreme circumstances, Alfred never would have ever pushed Britain away.   
In fact, it was quite the opposite. He was desperate for family, for the love and affection from someone who hadn’t betrayed him, that had he been well enough, he would have thrown himself at the smaller nation. Instead, the most he could manage was to move his arms up toward him and weakly grip at the sweater vest he was wearing, taking the soft cloth in his fingers.   
And so, as he laid there, the feel of Britain’s hands in his hair and his gently comforting voice filling his ears, he suddenly felt everything start to well up inside of him all over again. His chest tightened, his breathing hitched and his eyes began to burn as he tried to block out the pain.  
“Da…dad!” He suddenly cried. And then, without warning…he was crying.   
Britain stopped, lifting his hand out of Alfred’s blonde hair in order to look at him. He was a little surprised by America’s reaction to him. He’d seen America hurt before…granted not nearly this badly…but he’d still had that spunk, that fire that made him America, no matter what he’d been through. But this…  
Britain looked to his son. His heart hurt to see his face twisted in pain, to see his tears fall like rain. Lines creased the young nations face that Britain simply had never seen on him before. Before when America had been hurt, beaten down, or defeated by war…he’d come back with a fiery spirit.  
I’ll show em! He would say. I’ll show em what America’s made of! They’ll see! They’ll be sorry they messed with me! I’m fucking America dude! He was always so full of confidence. Almost to a ridiculous degree, so that even in defeat…he never really acted like he’d been defeated.   
But this…Britain had never seen this.   
His son was crying in his lap. He trembled in his arms. His young face was almost unrecognizable to Britain. There were too many creases in it. Too many worries. Too much pain. He hardly even looked like America. Britain stared at him, suddenly frightened. This was exactly what he’d feared. He knew Alfred could take a beating…but his spirit was…  
“Dad!” He suddenly cried again, and in hearing him say his name in such a wretched way was painful. “Dad! Ma…a…Matthew! Matt…he…he…he’s with Russia! He’s with Russia!” And really…that was all Alfred could seem to get out of himself. Unable to say more, he buried his bruised face in his father’s vest, hiding from the world around him that had suddenly become so dark and hopeless, when he was so used to seeing it as a sort of playground for his joy and amusement. That point of view, that attitude of his had been stripped away and stolen from him.   
The thing that made America so shining, so special, the thing Britain was so afraid of him losing…seemed to be the very thing Russia had focused on breaking.   
For a few seconds, all Britain could do was sit there on the cold floor, holding his broken son in his arms. He honestly didn’t know what else to do for him.   
Canada couldn’t possibly have been with Russia, Britain had to reaffirm in his mind. He certainly wasn’t their enemy. He knew that much for certain. Perhaps…America had lost his mind from the torture? Britain didn’t know. But he felt that, perhaps, the best thing to do was try to set him straight.   
“Alfred, listen. I spoke to Matthew about this. He said that he went to see Russia a few times in the sixties and seventies because his boss asked him to do a bit of business. But he never betrayed you. He never made an alliance with Russia or anything of that nature. He’s still your brother and he loves you very much. Whatever Russia has told you is…”  
But America was shaking his head now, his sobs coming all the more frequently as Britain tried to defend his youngest son. Hopeless to speak, Alfred lifted a weak hand…and then pointed over to the two Polaroid’s that were still lying on his prison floor. Britain turned his gaze to look at what Alfred was pointing at. Slowly, his green eye fell to the photos. Then they widened with the same type of shock that America’s eyes had when first falling onto the evidence. The pictures were damning and unmistakable in what they portrayed. There Canada was naked in a bed with Russia. Britain raised his hand to his mouth in shock.  
Britain could hardly believe what he was seeing. This was his youngest son they were talking about. His shy, quiet, always keeping to himself son. The gentle one. The one that would never hurt anyone, not even a fly. The one that had carried a stuffed bear around with him for hundreds of years. That son. That was the son they were talking about.   
I hadn’t thought he’d been with anyone at all before Gilbert! He thought in shock. He’s never dated before now. And in all honesty, he’s so shy, I was starting to wonder if he ever would! But…but Russia of all countries? The most ruthless and twisted of all the countries? I never would have thought…I mean…surely…surely Matthew would go for someone more timid, more kind! Like Greece perhaps. How on earth could he pick Russia?   
Britain gaped, simply flabbergasted by the entire thing. And judging by the dates printed on the photos, he absorbed yet another shock.   
And in the 60’s and 70’s? That was when the cold war was the worst! Those were the days when Alfred instructed the school children in his country to have drills where they would hide underneath their desks in preparation for being bombed! How could…how could Matthew…How could he have done such a thing?  
Even if Alfred hadn’t been captured by the enemy this would have been a sensitive subject, and still a very hurtful action by Matthew. But with Alfred in Russia’s hands, this news was devastating.   
Britain had known that the boys had been fighting at the time, in disagreement about several things but…for Matthew to go behind Alfred’s back and then sleep with the enemy? Britain shook his head, clearly still not fully believing in it. He just couldn’t imagine his sweet, little, Canada doing something so horrific.  
But it was then that his mind wandered back to Alfred. He glanced down at his sobbing son. He’d been captured, hurt, beaten, and locked up in some cold dark place. And Britain could just imagine the things Russia must have said to him about this little affair, the horrible things he must have said to him.   
Alfred would have been hurt by the betrayal anyway, even if he were fully healthy and free and in his own land. But now…with the state he was in…   
And he’s been working so hard the past few months on mending his relationship with Canada, trying to get back to the way things should have been. He’s been worrying himself sick with nightmares and everything about his safety. He’s put himself in harm’s way more than once trying to protect him, like at the world meeting. He’s been trying to apologize for the way he’s treated Canada, trying to make amends. And he’s even gone to the complete extreme in deciding to take Canada’s place, so his little brother wouldn’t be hurt…  
It hadn’t been the right move of course. It had been rather stupid in fact. But…Britain had still understood why he’d done it. He thought his little brother was in danger. He didn’t want to risk Matthew getting captured, or hurt, or killed. And he’d been so desperate, and he loved Matthew so deeply that he’d decided to take matters into his own hands.   
Of course…no one had known that Canada had a friendly relationship with Russia. Why…the ice nation had shoved Matthew down the stairs! Canada hadn’t said anything then. And he hadn’t said anything when future America came, ranting about a crazed Russia who would murder Canada. And he hadn’t said anything when Italy had been kidnapped. And he hadn’t said a single word when they were trying to hatch a rescue plan.   
And when Alfred had forcefully traded places with him…  
…not a word.  
Britain found himself getting angry. Had Canada mentioned this from the beginning, all of their plans would have been very, very different. It would have still been frightening to send Canada to Russia’s, of course, but Britain imagined it would have at least put Alfred at ease. They could have assured him that Matthew would be ok, because apparently Russia liked him and no one ever knew. Matthew could have gone in and reasoned or bargained with Russia, and all of this terror and violence could have been avoided.   
If only Matthew had told them.  
Canada’s betrayal was hurtful enough, to be sure. But Britain could have looked past it. It had been a while ago when it occurred, and the boys had been fighting at the time, but to not say anything since November was traitorous all over again. America would have gotten over it, had he been given the chance. But now…now Britain wasn’t so sure. Alfred was lying in a dark cell…thinking his brother had set this entire thing up, that he was in cahoots with Russia.   
…Is he in cahoots with Russia? Britain wondered in fear. But after a quick consideration, he knew it couldn’t be true. Even with this new development…I know he can’t be. He ran off over here without my permission to rescue Alfred and… And that’s when Britain’s thoughts stopped and his heart was instead stabbed with fear.   
Where was Canada anyway? His jacket was here…lying on top of his brother…but Canada himself? Britain hadn’t seen him. Clearly Matthew had been here, in the cell with his older brother. Wouldn’t he have untied him? Freed him? And if Russia wouldn’t allow him to free him, wouldn’t he have at least brought him food? A blanket? Bandages? Something?  
From Britain’s point of view…it appeared as if Canada had walked in, took a look at Alfred and then left. What had Canada done when he’d seen all that blood in the living room? All the blood in this prison cell? Why had he left?  
How could he do this? Britain thought to himself again, this time, the flames of anger behind his thoughts. How could he not say anything about this for the past two months? His cheeks started to pinken as his emerald eyes began to glimmer all over again.  
We do not need this type of deceit and division among our ranks when we have an enemy like Russia to deal with! And Russia is huge and angry and cruel! And look at what he’s done to Alfred! My son! His brother! How could he possibly sleep with his torturer? Ever?   
Britain didn’t want to think such horrid things about his youngest son, but he could hardly help himself. He was so worried and so afraid for Alfred. And to learn of this atrocious act being committed by the very person he knew Alfred was closest to was almost too much. To see the evidence in person.  
Because Canada couldn’t find the courage to tell us about this sordid affair of his, Alfred is hearing about it for the first time from Russia! And I’m certain Russia didn’t dress it up for him either! And after Alfred has purposefully thrown himself into the enemy’s arms in order to protect him! Britain gasped for breath, the whole thought of it being so incredibly painful for him.  
Of course, Alfred assumed that Canada could still be working with his enemy! Britain in fact suddenly wasn’t so sure he wasn’t with this new and suddenly shocking development. And that meant…if it was true…that Canada was the one that did this to Alfred. It meant that Canada was involved in this entire crazy scheme.   
Britain had been worried and frightened for his oldest son before. But now…he wasn’t sure if his fear could escalate any higher. America was tough…physically. And he could take a lot of punishment. It was still incredibly difficult to see him hurt for Britain, but now…now the very thing that Arthur had just been thinking made America so special was in jeopardy: his shining spirit.   
Britain had seen him get hurt plenty of times. Even seriously so. And he somehow always pulled through and found his joy again. He could always reclaim that smile. Even in the midst of war and death and despair.   
America was like steel. Britain had never imagined anything could crush that spirit…until now.  
This could. The idea of his little brother, who he so loved, playing him, and fooling him into his enemies clutches to be beaten and tortured and dragged all over Russia so no one could ever find him: that would crush him. It would mean for him that his little brother not only didn’t care for him, but hated him so profusely that he would side with his greatest enemy. Alfred would be made to believe…that Alfred’s suffering is what Matthew wanted.   
Is it? He questioned. The rational voice inside of him said certainly not. No matter Matthew’s crimes…this could never be what he wanted. But all the same, Canada’s credibility was destroyed with these photos, and Britain really had no idea what to think of his youngest son at the moment.   
At the very least, he’d lied to everyone in their family and had withheld valuable information that would have saved all of them, and mostly poor Alfred. And at its worst…Matthew was a traitor…and he was indeed working with Russia.   
Trembling with both terror for his oldest son, and anger for his youngest, Britain almost couldn’t even keep a firm grip on America. But all the same, even through all his thoughts and the shock of the news, he always knew what was important and what wasn’t. And what was important right now was not to dwell on something he couldn’t change. What was important now, was taking care of Alfred.  
Turning his glimmering, fiery gaze on Russia, who still stood in the doorway, watching them like the creepy psychopath he was, his large form silhouetted against the light, Britain said,  
“You are going to let us go, and you are going to let us go right now so that I can get Alfred to a hospital. Then we can deal with the rest of this later.”   
As always, he knew what was most important. And that wasn’t to get angry, or seek revenge, or try and to attack Russia. What was important was getting Alfred some medical help. He needed his bones splinted, and he needed massive pain medication. Arthur would have done anything to take away his pain. And unfortunately, the emotional side of it would have to wait until they could find Matthew again.   
Britain knew that France and Germany would be storming the castle, so to speak in another fifteen minutes or so. But all the same, he didn’t even want to wait that long to get Alfred out of there. He didn’t want Alfred to by lying on that ice-cold floor for another fifteen minutes. He didn’t want him in that place for even another second. If he had the chance…he was going to take his son and go. 

Russia had stayed quiet during the whole interchange between America and Britain. He knew that Britain would be concerned for his son’s safety and he did not bother as Britain assessed America. He let America explain the entire situation himself. He watched as Britain saw the old photo and fell off into a world of disbelief himself. He let them discuss the treachery within their family with only a smile on his face.   
When Britain finally turned to address him Russia turned to stare down at the Southern twin, “Matvey will be here when you come back, da, America. I will watch out for your brover. When you come back around, we can all talk. I’m sure is what Matvey wanted.”   
Although he said such words Russia didn’t move out of the doorway. Neither did he move to help either of the countries out of his home. He simply stared at them with calculating eyes, “I need my pictures back. They are good memories.”  
He was having enough fun tormenting America from the doorway even with Britain right there in the room.

Britain grabbed his son all the more tightly, bringing him in to his chest as if he could protect him from words this way. Still seated on the floor with him, Britain sent Russia a scathing look. He knew that such words were just needles compared to the knives he was sure Russia had already driven deeply into his son’s heart.   
He was furious. He knew he was supposed to wait for his colleagues to arrive so they could also rescue Italy and…possibly Canada, but…  
America was shivering in his arms. And as Britain touched him, he found his skin was like ice. He was suffering so completely, and it seemed as if Russia would take pot shots at him as long as he was still around.  
I’ll have to carry him myself then. Britain was smaller than Alfred, by several inches. And he wasn’t nearly as strong. His son had outgrown him, and he knew he was heavy. He didn’t care. If it was the only way to get him out of that hell hole than he would find the strength.  
Turning to face his son, he gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes once more.  
“I’m going to lift you up. I know it’ll be painful…please…please bear with it. I’m getting you out of here.” America, appearing completely spent, as if he just had nothing left in him to give, somehow managed to nod, his blue eyes full of understanding. Britain saw that his son was indeed prepared. Despite all he’d been through, America found more strength from the deep recesses of his heart. Britain leaned in, kissed his son on his forehead, then got to work.  
He moved quickly, wanting to make Alfred’s discomfort as brief as possible. Due to their size difference, he decided on piggy-back, knowing he’d be unable to hold America up in his arms. Laying America down on the ground, he then repositioned him, picking up his arms and then, with a great bout of desperation and adrenaline, he scooped him up and onto his back.  
He dared not stop when America screamed from the pain of simply having his weight shifted. Arthur dared not think about how many broken bones he’d just crunched together or shifted. Instead, he just kept going. Getting America situated, he then stood up. His small body shuddered from the effort, but he didn’t care. He would tear his muscles to pieces if it meant getting his son out of his personal prison.   
Standing up right, he reached behind him, grabbing onto America’s legs. Alfred, weak, and barely conscious from the stabbing pain he’d just experienced, called up what strength he had left in order to wrap his arms around Britain’s neck and chest. He would try to hold on…but wasn’t sure how much longer he could remain conscious. Simply being upright was proving to be very difficult and very painful, and it made him dizzy. His breathing, which had finally settled down after being motionless for a time, came in with difficulty once more. Wheezing, he tried to catch his breath.  
Britain heard the trouble Alfred was having, and knew that the faster he moved the better. He moved toward the doorway, putting one heavy, strained step, in front of the other. Britain moved right up in front of the larger nation who was blocking his exit, his son on his back in the way he used to carry him as a small child, back when it was fun and games. It had been hundreds of years since then, but even so, it brought back fierce parental instincts. His child was in danger…and he would protect him.  
“Step aside Russia,” Britain demanded coldly. 

Russia did as told and stepped back out into the hallway and out of the struggling Britain’s way. He stepped back beside his knocked over hallway table. The table had fallen over when Canada had tackled him and had yet to be fixed. Russia made no move to stop the two nations. He was happy that his countries natural weather would be enough to stop Britain at the front door. The two foreign countries had nowhere to go, so he would let the outside world stop them. They really had no hope of leaving, and he wanted them to both see that. If they eventually did escape they would freeze long before reaching civilization again.

Britain marched right by Russia. He marched determinedly down the ruined hallway. And he marched through the destroyed living room, not looking left or right or at any of the destruction or blood that he still assumed was America’s. And America, barley holding onto consciousness, wasn’t even in the state of mind to take note of the destroyed room.  
Britain reached the front door. Hands full with the weight of his heavy son, he managed to pry the offending object open and out of his way. Once he did, he was greeted by an endless wilderness of snow. Just like Russia’s other house, the building was situated seemingly in the middle of nowhere, miles from help or any sign of civilization.   
Once faced with the option, Britain shifted America’s weight on his back so that he could reach into his pocket. Quickly he pulled out his cell phone. He dialed information and held it to his ear. When the operator on the other end picked up, he responded.  
“Yes, I’m calling for a cab please. Could you pick us up at-!”

Seeing as an outside force had come into play Russia reached out and snatched the phone out of Britain’s hand. It was easy considering that Britain had his hands full carrying his son. Once he pulled the phone out of Britain’s hand he stepped back and canceled the call.  
“I am sorry Comrade. I cannot allow you to do that.” Once the electronic was in his hand he took only a moment to crush it. The electronic pieces fell from Russia’s hand and onto the floor. Russia momentarily looked down at the broken circuit boards and then turned back to Britain. His creepy smile was back in place.  
“I am afraid there has been change in plan Britain. I don’t think I can let you go just yet. I think Matvey would miss him too much.”

Britain’s green eyes widened in shock as he watched his phone get crushed to pieces and heard what Russia had said.   
So…he is planning on keeping Alfred here…I thought so. And had Britain not known that Germany and France would be there any given moment, he would have been a lot more panicked. But as it was now, he knew all he had to do was stall.   
There was about to be fight. A very big fight. And Britain knew that the only way he could get Alfred out of there was if they won. As such, Britain knew their chances would be better if he fought too. And so, it was time to find a safe place for Alfred so that Arthur’s hands could be free.   
Calmly, and wordlessly, Britain started over to the couch, which was still upright and in one piece in the destroyed living room. He moved as smoothly as he could over to it so as not to jostle his injured boy. And once he reached it, he very carefully, very gently slid Alfred off of his back and down onto the cushions. All the same, America cried out weakly from the pain once more.   
Taking his head in his hands, Britain laid him down. Seeing as Russia still wasn’t really bothering them, just trying to keep them in the house, Britain took the time to grab his son a pillow. He propped up his head, making sure he was as comfortable as he could be considering his condition.   
Wheezing terribly from his ordeal of being moved, fresh blood on his lips, America cracked open his blue eyes in order to gaze worriedly at Britain.  
“Wha…what’s happ…happening? Yo…you’re…”  
“Shhh. I’m taking care of it. Don’t’ worry, we’re still leaving. We won’t be here much longer.” Then, leaning in, he kissed his forehead lovingly a second time. And it was at that moment, as soon as he pulled back that all three countries would hear the sound of a car door being slammed outside. They hadn’t heard it approach due to the snow, muffling its sound.   
Britain stood up tall then, and proud. Staying protectively in front of his son, he faced his enemy. The front door already left open from Britain’s escape attempt, France and Germany simply ran inside.   
Once in, France stopped to take in the horror of the room.  
“Oh mon deiu!” He cried. But Germany…Germany didn’t stop. And he didn’t hesitate. And his ice blue eyes never faltered from his intended target. He came in like a tank, running at top speed and simply lunged across the living room. He closed the space between himself and Russia in the blink of an eye, and as soon as he reached the larger country, he lashed out, violently. With fists, made seemingly of brick, he went directly for the countries head. 

Russia was caught off guard by the appearance of France in his living room, Germany he could understand. Germany making a sneak attack made enough sense, but he could not figure out what France thought he would accomplish by being in his home. He barely had time to register the appearance of the two nations before Germany was throwing a well placed punch. He barely managed to dodge as Germany’s fist clipped the corner of his skull.   
This wasn’t like fighting the North American twins. America was overzealous and brash as long as he waited patiently he had known the younger nation would eventually slip up. Canada had been driven by fierce emotional compulsion to protect his brother that had blinded him to his surroundings. Germany would not fall victim to such things. As such Russia knew he needed to focus on his opponent.   
He raised his arms up in front of him for defense and steeled his feet on the floor waiting for Germany to come at him once more. This time he ran forward pulling back his fist as he went. He quickly began calculating in his head all of the different directions Germany may decide to take in the fight. He started to think ahead and plan for his enemies movements in advance.  
France dodged around the fight and ran down the hallway. He had seen Britain and America in the living room. That only left Canada and Italy. Having been given the task of finding the locations of the others he ran down the hallway opening all locked doors he came across. He was quite ecstatic that on his second try he found Italy.  
“Italy! Come!” He looked around the room Italy had been kept in. It didn’t seem like such a harsh prison, but he did note the large pool of blood similar to the one in the living room. France watched the smaller nation run to him without a problem. He was glad to see, that unlike America, Italy seemed physically ok. France pointed Italy towards the front room. He saw the dried blood on the friendly persona and placed his hands on Italy’s shoulders and steered him towards the living room. Having seen the blood he decided to go with Italy and make sure he made it back to the others safely. He quickly ran back down the hallway dodging the fight that was taking place, he dragged Italy over to America’s side.  
Having to forgo Canada for the moment France decided to get the other two hostages out of the house. Having seen America injured on the couch France had jumped to the same conclusion that everyone else had. He assumed all of the blood in the room belonged to the Southern twin. It never crossed his mind that Canada was injured. As soon as France got Italy to the living room he raced over to America’s side.  
“Italy. We will move him out to la car. Can you help me?” France cried as a fight raged around them in the room. Russia was like an unbreakable wall. It was unnerving that he still wore his crazed smile even during such a dramatic fight. France found himself glancing around the carnage of the room and found himself gagging before he reached down to pick up America. He was taller than the Southern twin and would be able to hold him in his arms as he carried him out to the awaiting car. France tried to be as gentle as he could while he was still hurrying.  
“He’s lost a lot of blood here. We have to get him to a hospital.” Once France had America hoisted up into his arms he paused for a very brief second in the living room to look at Italy, “Have you seen Canada? I have not seen him.” He could tell that Canada had at least seen America because Canada’s coat was still wrapped around his shoulders.

Italy, at first, had been very distracted by the simple sight of Germany. When he came back out into the living room, his heart soared to see his chiseled face, his blonde hair, and his fierce blue eyes. But of course, he was in the middle of a fierce, dangerous battle.   
Italy knew much better than to distract him. If he called out…he would lose his focus and get hurt. Italy knew he had to simply pass by and follow France as instructed.   
Moving to the couch, he watched as France lifted America into his arms. Italy winced in sympathy as America cried out. But then, France asked him a question.  
“Ca…Canada,” Italy said. “Yes! He…Russia hurt him! He hurt him almost-a-the same exact-a-way as America. China…China was here. He-a-took him to the-a-hospital, ve. A…and China said-a that North Korea is-a-here. We need to be careful! I don’t-a-know-a-where he is!”  
Britain, seeing that France was taking care of the hostages, knew he had to help out Germany and win this fight, or they would all be stuck in the icy tomb as Russia’s prisoners. Himself, Canada, America, France, Italy and Germany. Six different countries. Russia would have half the world prisoner.   
Britain knew it was now or never. They had to get serious and they had to do it now. No more games. No more polite pretenses. This was going to be violent.  
Looking around the room, Britain sought a weapon. Finding some very nice, heavy, long, metal candle sticks, he picked one up. Then, he didn’t hesitate. He ran forward fully intending on helping Germany fight. As Russia faced the hardened nation, the island nation came up behind him, raising the candle stick over his head.  
“This is for my boys!” 

Fighting both nations was going to become tedious quickly. Russia barely had time to turn away from Germany and catch the heavy, metal candlestick holder before Britain clocked him in the head. Russia’s smile slipped a bit at having almost been hit by the island nation. It brought back memories from earlier in the day when Canada had gotten the better of him, and that memory made him angry. He held onto the candlestick holder with one hand. His arm shaking at the effort to keep it from hitting him.  
“You shouldn’t do that Comrade. That’s what made me get angry, and I do this to Matvey.” With a firm twist of his hand Russia ripped the candlestick holder out of Britain’s hand, but it caused him to take a punch from Germany. The smaller nation could hit like a brick house. Russia stumbled forward falling to one knee, but he quickly spun around facing his enemies once more. He clutched the candlestick holder firmly in his hand. He lunged forward with weapon in hand and swung out at the other two countries.  
Outside France made it back to the car. He gestured for Italy to get inside. Once he did and sat down, he carefully laid America in the back seat and used Italy as a make shift pillow laying America against the smaller nation.  
“Keep him warm.” He slammed the door shut. He clambered to the front seat and climbed in. He quickly blasted the heat in the car and directed it back onto his freezing son. He had become distracted with accommodating America and trying to warm his frozen son up that he didn’t hear Italy cry out a loud warning, “Watch-a-out!”  
France wasn’t prepared when a strong hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back out of the car. The white powder poofed up around him as France fell back into the snow. When he looked up he recognized North Korea even if he hadn’t really met him all that many times before. Francis’s face turned into a growl. It was true that as of late he hadn’t won that many battles… or any really, but he still had one more son to rescue and he would not be stopped.   
France had barely started to get up when the other nation rushed him. France rolled out of the way, but the other militaristic country quickly corrected his movements and came after France again. Pulling back an iron fist France raised his arms to block him. He felt the punch connect, but he didn’t bother to think about it. Korea was sitting on him and just raining down punches. He knew he had to get the other nation off, so he sharply rolled to his right throwing North Korea into the snow. Then he jumped up rushing after him with his fist raised. He pulled his hand back and with all his might he swung. He blinked when North Korea rolled away and he punched the snow instead.

Inside the house, Germany was finding his fight to be just as difficult as he thought it would be. Worse still…was that Britain had given their enemy a weapon. Still two against one, he at least liked their odds. But all the same, he wished to God that he had a weapon of his own.   
Russia slammed the candlestick down just behind him as he dodged, the metal coming crashing down on the table it had originated from. Dishes that had been on the table shattered, making a horrific racket. But luckily, Germany had a partner. As he dodged, Britain attacked.  
He leapt up on top of the huge nation, putting him into a choke hold and wrapping an arm around his neck. Germany took his chance and got a nice, good, solid punch in Russia’s mid-section. He was strong enough to hurt the country. He winced. But unfortunately, he was still like an iron wall.   
Seemingly only fueled by the attack, he suddenly bent forward, flinging poor Britain off of his back and forward. Landing on the floor, face down, Russia then advanced on the smaller country. Britain gaped up in horror, seeing in that second exactly what his son’s had each seen as the candlestick was raised above his head, about to come down, a crazed look in Russia’s eyes.  
But then Germany came from the side like a bullet, tackling the larger nation. Hitting like a tank, he went to shove Russia to the ground if he could.   
Britain, seeing the two wrestle, and having seen Germany get several good solid hits in…knew they’d need more than skin to win. Getting up off the ground, Britain scrambled to his feet. He prayed Germany would be ok on his own for just a moment, because Britain had an idea. He himself may not have had a good grip on his weapon…and it may have ended up in Russia’s hands…but Britain knew no one could take a weapon from Germany. If he could just get him a good weapon…Germany would win this battle for them.   
And so, Britain turned and raced out of the living room in search for the kitchen. A simple knife would be enough for Germany to finish the job.  
Back in the living room, Germany saw that he lost his back-up, but he wasn’t concerned. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Britain was doing and he was grateful. He needed a gun or a knife, or a shiv. Anything would do. And once he had one…he would make Russia pay for ever even thinking of touching his Italy.   
With a gruff, frightening scream, Germany rushed forward once more, fists aimed for his enemy. 

Outside, Italy saw France get attacked. He’d tried to shout him a warning but…  
“It…Italy…what’s happening?” Alfred garbled. Italy looked to him. His heart cried at the sight of his beaten face. Feliciano had never really known Alfred that well before this entire incident. But… the sacrifice he’d made for him, and his attempt to rescue him and also keep his younger brother safe, was enough to show Italy that he was a good country. And what had happened to him was a travesty.   
Italy lifted his head. He saw France and North Korea fighting outside. Feliciano knew that if France lost…North Korea would get in the car and drive them to yet another hidden location somewhere in Russia. And if that happened, it wouldn’t matter if the allies inside won the battle against Russia or not. It wouldn’t matter if Ludwig won…his sacrifice would be for nothing. If North Korea beat France now…this nightmare would continue.   
Italy wasn’t sure he could take anymore horror. And…in looking at Alfred…he just didn’t know if the joyful country would ever be joyful again. America wouldn’t survive another beating. He wouldn’t survive more torture. He couldn’t last a moment more in Russia’s hands.   
True, he couldn’t die since his country was strong…but…his spirit could. And if that happened…well…he’d never come back to them.  
I have to fight too, he thought, frightened. I know I’m not very good at it, and all I ever do is retreat…but…I…I can’t run away this time. I have to go home to Ludwig. And I have to get America home to his family too. The only way we can do that…is if we can get out of here.  
And so, doing something he’d simply never done before in all his long life, Italy stepped out of the car and into the snow. Facing the fighting countries, he lifted his tiny fists in front of him. And shaking…he started to approach. 

France was fighting a hard fight and was way too busy to notice Italy was slowly drawing closer. He felt an iron fist come down and hit him across his face. The country of love didn’t cry out as he felt a bruise forming on his cheek. He simply ran forward once more and tackled North Korea. They both hit the snow, white powder rising from the ground. He pulled his fist back and swung at the other country. He landed a hard punch on Korea’s face sending the other nation back into the snow. He growled down at the other county. He was fueled with an inner rage that this scum had been working with Russia to hurt his son. He raised his hand again and smashed it into North Korea’s face once more.

Inside the house Russia didn’t bat an eyelash as Britain ran for his kitchen. He made note of the move though and reminded himself to be careful when the other nation returned. He had plenty of items in his kitchen that could be used as weapons after all. He was fairly sure that he could subdue Britain if he took Germany down here and now. He needed to end this fight before Britain came back. He rushed forward candlestick high in the air. He went to bring it down on the German’s skin. Wasting no time when he missed he swung again and again. This battle would be ending soon, so he threw everything into the attack knowing one way or the other he would not be getting a second chance.

Germany had been in lots of fights, frequently outnumbered or outgunned. He expertly dodged each of Russia’s blows. Left, right, duck, jump. And he only needed to dance around for twenty seconds or so before Britain returned, a very large butcher knife in his hands.   
Germany saw it gleam out of the corner of his eye, but the trick now was getting a hold of it before Russia.   
Briefly distracted by his partner, Russia’s candlestick came across from his left and cracked harshly against his cheek. With a cry, he stumbled back, his lower lips splitting open. But luckily for Britain and Germany, this caused Germany to stumble back and away from Russia for just enough room for perhaps, a weapon to be tossed through the air.  
“Germany!” Britain threw the knife his way. Seeing it coming, Germany leapt up, grabbing its handle. He took another hit in his efforts to reach his weapon, Russia cruelly slamming his candlestick across his shoulder blades and knocking the German back. Ludwig stumbled, and then fell to the floor. But…he had his butcher knife firmly in hand.   
Russia, seeing his enemy down, advanced, his purple eyes crazed and alight with blood lust. Leaping, he came down on top of the German. Ludwig raised his knife just in time, the metal blade clanking against the metal candlestick as Russia leaned in and forward, pressing all his weight down on the other country.  
“You vwant to save you precious Italy, da?” He said, his hideous grin growing over his deranged lips as he pressed in further, trying to force back Germany’s knife. “I vwill admit, he is a cute vhittle country, da comrade? But…I must admit…pure love like yours…makes me vomit.” He leaned in further still, and Germany found himself struggling to keep up Russia’s weight. The blade he held in his hands started to slip. Raising his second hand, he held it up against the flat side of the blade, struggling to keep Russia up and away. But even so…the pressure caused the edge of the blade to slip into the meat of his palm. A thing, red line was drawn as he started to bleed. But Germany didn’t even flinch. He didn’t respond to Russia, offering him nothing in the way of satisfaction.   
Germany wasn’t nearly as easily distraught by simple words as others may have been. He’d lived through it all. And…he wasn’t worried. Russia was so hell bent on his bloodlust and his attempts to hurt Germany with his words that he didn’t seem to realize that Germany still had a partner helping him out.  
Britain came up from behind.   
But Germany had been wrong.   
Russia was prepared.   
With a sudden yell, Russia launched himself up and off of Germany and backward, slamming into the smaller nation who stumbled and fell back. Turning, Russia faced him, the same deranged grin on his face.   
“Comrade Britain! You seek revenge for your son’s? Unhappy are you vat I slept vwith one and tortured de other? I vwish you’d been here…to hear de way America scream.” Dragging his candlestick across the couch rest, he raised his weapon over the small island nation. It was all Britain could do to lift his arms to cover his face in defense.   
But, Germany came up behind Russia then. Putting one arm around the large nation’s waist, he didn’t hesitate in using the other to slip his kitchen blade into Russia’s back. Holding him firmly in place, he then pushed it in, sharply, expertly, making sure it went through both tissue and any bone it met.  
Almost completely expressionless, and still without saying a word, he pulled the knife back out, never willing to give up a weapon. Especially not with Russia still standing before him. Germany was fully prepared to stab him again if need be. 

Russia was oddly silent as the blade pierced his back. Blood came bubbling up and out of his mouth, but despite the scientific impossibility he sluggishly started to turn around and face Germany. He was barely able to turn, but he was driven by pure rage and adrenaline as he turned to try and face Germany again. When Germany plunged the knife through him a second time Russia’s body wouldn’t hold out any longer. His body shook and his eyes were still wide as he started to collapse to the floor with a loud thud.


	24. Reunions

Chapter 24  
Reunion

Outside blood splattered into the snow as a well-placed hit from North Korea broke France’s nose. He stumbled back dazed and landed on his ass. Even though France looked like a wreck his opponent had not escaped unscathed. Fairing a bit better, the militaristic country smirked down at France. He pulled back his foot and went to kick the other country while he was down. France was prepared for the new onslaught, and he braced himself for the hits.

But oddly, out of all countries, it was Italy who suddenly flung himself into battle. Leaping forward like a true novice, and throwing his arms around North Korea’s neck, he clung on tight, trying his damndest to save France’s life. Eyes squeezed shut in fright; he struggled to choke his enemy. But unfortunately for Italy, North Korea was much better practiced at battle. He had no trouble at all grabbing onto the skinny brunette and easily flipping him up and forward over his head in a throw. With an, ‘oof!’ Italy landed flat on his back in the snow.  
“You need lessons in fighting.” he said as he stepped up and over him. “Let me show you how to properly subdue an enemy.” Lifting a boot, Italy saw his foot rise above him. Seeing the underside of his treads, North Korea positioned his heel right above Italy’s face. It was clear he was going to smash his face in.  
Crying out in fear, Italy flung his arms over himself to try and protect himself. And as he did, his eyes being covered, there came a sudden scream…followed by a disturbing gurgling noise. Then…it sounded like a body collapsed to the snowy ground. The attack he was expecting never came. But still, he was too frightened to move, or lower his arms as the silence of a Russian winter could be heard around him. But then, the one thing in the entire world that could have immediately put him at ease occurred.   
He heard Germany’s voice.  
“Feliciano.” His deep voice came softly, and from just above him as he beckoned his lover. “Feliciano…you’re safe now.”   
Still shaking, Italy slowly lowered his arms. And when he did, he looked up and saw his Ludwig standing just above him. His jaw was as ridged as always, his hair just as blonde as he remembered, and his blue eyes…were deeper than the sea as he gazed at him, emotion already overflowing even before he said a word.   
Feliciano gazed at him. Even with his left cheek bruised and his lower lip bleeding…he was the most handsome, most attractive sight Italy had ever seen in his entire life.  
His heart soared. And exasperated, he cried out, breathlessly,  
“Ludwig!” He lifted his arms straight out toward him, and Germany didn’t even hesitate. He moved in, dropping his knife, and reaching out he scooped the smaller country up and out of the snow. Standing, he pulled him into a strong, steel-like embrace. Feliciano, overjoyed, and unable to contain himself in the slightest, jumped up further still, throwing both his arms and legs around his well-built boyfriend wrapping him up tightly.   
Germany lifted him even higher, way up into the air where Italy could really wrap himself around his neck and be near his face. And then, Germany spun him in a circle, and Italy immediately laughed, his joyous voice filling the chilly air around them with a warmth Russia had never known before. The musical sound broke through the death grip that had just been in the area, its power seeming to dispel all the sadness and pain with such a simple, natural noise.  
Germany, in hearing it, was immediately filled with a wide, sweeping, wave of relief. Absolutely overjoyed that Italy was safe, and sound, and completely unharmed in anyway, and finally back in his arms where he belonged, well…Germany had to laugh too.   
Clutching him by his waist, he spun him around once more. But soon, even this was not enough for the couple. Carefully lowering him back down to the ground, Germany placed his partner carefully on his feet in the snow.   
They pulled back, gazing at each other briefly, as if just checking to make sure each of them was real, then immediately, Germany pulled Italy back into a tight embrace. He clutched the smaller nation to his chest, and bowed his golden head against him. One arm around his back and the other hand in his hair, Germany held on with a grip of steel.  
Italy couldn’t remember ever being held so tightly. And as he was squeezed, he could feel Ludwig’s heart beating dreadfully fast from within his chest. And a second later…he felt him tremble.   
“Oh Ludwig…” he whispered into his ear. “You must-a-have been so afraid…” He wrapped his arms around his back, trying his best to comfort the stoic nation. “It’s ok now…I’m-a-ok. No one hurt me. You saved-a-me! Ve! You’re my-a-hero!”   
Then, getting up on his tippy-toes, Feliciano lifted his head and kissed Ludwig firmly on his earlobe. “It’s ok.”   
Germany held onto his boyfriend for a very, very long time, seemingly afraid to release him. He had been scared. More petrified than he could ever remember being in his entire life. And so, he wasn’t going to move. Not yet.  
As such, Britain had plenty of time to emerge from the house. He was alright, only suffering a few nasty bruises and a small cut on his cheek. But when he came out, he found France lying in the snow.   
“Ah!” Quickly, he rushed over, afraid he was hurt, but once he got onto his knees beside him, the French man reached out, snaring him in a tight embrace around his neck and pulling him down into the snow with him.  
“Oh Angleterre! You’re safe! Oi! Thank goodness!” Squeezing poor Britain, France smashed his face into the side of Arthur’s and began rubbing his cheek up and down on him as if he were some cat. Arms tight around him, he kept him in place as he began to struggle furiously.  
“And to think I was worried about you! You ingrate! I should have left you here in the snow! Unhand me this instant!” But as always, France only replied with his usual   
‘hon hon hon!’  
Finally, a few feet away, Germany released Italy from his death grip. Pulling apart, but keeping their hands on each other’s shoulders and waists, Italy gazed up at his love. It was then that he had the time to address his partner’s injuries.  
“Oh, Ludwig, you-a got yourself-a-hurt.” Reaching up a soft hand, Italy gently stroked the large bruise that was still forming on the side of his face.   
“It’z nothink…” Ludwig said. But all the same, Italy watched as his eyes fluttered closed at his gentle touch, not due to pain, but clearly from pleasure. Quickly, Germany reached up his own hand, placing his palm over Italy’s in order to keep it on his injured cheek.   
Feliciano’s heart fluttered at the action. Germany was being a lot more affectionate and a hell of a lot more physical than he ever remembered. The larger nation clearly wanted to be close. And Italy, always having been good at reading him and knowing just what he needed, knew that for once, the thing that Germany really wanted the most, out of everything, was touch. He needed the physical contact, just to make sure Italy was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere, that it was all ok.  
And so, Italy reached out his other hand. As tenderly as with the first, he this time reached out to his bleeding lip. Carefully, he wiped the blood away. Then, he cupped his palm against his other cheek, and with no more time to waste, he stood up on his tippy-toes once more and pressed his lips carefully against Ludwig’s. Careful not to hurt him, he kissed him sweetly.   
Germany leaned into the kiss, swollen lip be damned. He would never let Feliciano go again.   
“Ich liebe dich,” (I love you) he whispered to him. And Feliciano had to smile at his beautiful partner as he kept both hands on either side of his face.  
“Anch'io ti voglio been.” (I love you too.) Italy watched the magic be born as Germany’s lips curved upward, and his favorite thing to witness on all the earth happened: Germany’s rare, but breathtaking smile.   
“Mio Dio, sei bellissima...” (My God, you’re beautiful.) And then Germnay laughed. Laughed. For the second time in the past five minutes! Italy was sure it was some sort of miricle.   
But it was at that moment that Britain cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. Somehow during the time the lovers were enveloped in one another, he’d gotten free from France. France sported a new black eye, one he had not gotten in his fight with North Korea.  
“I hate to break this up, truely I do...but...Alfred’s gravely injured and we still don’t know where Canada is...”

“Oh, uh! I-a-do! I-a-already-a told France. China took him to-a-the hospitalia!” Italy responded Britain let out a long, long sigh of relief that everyone could see. If he was at the hospital than at least he was getting proper care. No matter the anger he felt at his youngest son for the most recent crimes that had been brought to light. He didn't want either of them to suffer.   
“Then I suppose the thing we need to do is figure out our next move. We need to get out of this area before Russia wakes up or heals in a few days. Alfred...I...I want to take him to a hospital, but we’re in hostile territory. He’s easily recognizable as a country, and as Russia’s enemy here. I’m afraid they may not help him, or worse....hurt him further if we seek help. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to go home. But...then we’d have to figure out how to get Canada out of the hospital...”  
“Maybe we-a-should hide...” Italy suggested. 

Britain thought of all the events of the past few hours. He looked to the car that held his tortured son, and then at all of the countries surrounding him. They were all allies in this fight, and they had a right to know what had happened in Russia's house before they had arrived. With all the evidence stacking up against his youngest son this newest development about China taking him to a hospital really didn't make much sense. Why had Canada been hurt?   
Britain was still under the impression that all of the horror in the home he had just come from had been part of Alfred's torture. As such he wondered about the validity of Canada's injuries. If they were to mount a rescue attempt and Canada didn't need rescuing they could be walking into a trap and also wasting valuable time. If Canada truly set all of this up with Russia then the truth needed to be said now and the group would have to decide if it was really worth going after the younger twin or not.  
"I'm not sure it's safe to even go after Canada. He may have been working with Russia this whole time."   
Britain looked around the group to take in all of their reactions. France who had returned to his goofy attitude immediately froze up at that accusation. His fists clinched and for a moment it looked like he may deck Arthur because of the rage that was flowing within him. The implications of what Britain had just said were both horrendous and downright evil.   
Poor Italy who still had the Northern twin's blood on him didn't get a chance to say anything though as Britain continued.  
"Russia brought it to my attention that he and Canada have had a relationship in the past, and Russia alluded to the fact that they may be working together now. I didn't want to believe it at first, but Russia had undeniable proof of that relationship. All the things that I have seen at this house today don't really add up. I wanted to believe that the facts would prove Canada innocent, but they make Canada look like he helped Russia with this whole set up. The injuries could be staged. If we are to go after Canada then you should all know the truth. It could be a trap. Canada may not want us to rescue him. I just don't know, but this is what I've learned.   
Canada and Russia hooked up back in the seventies. That was a long time ago, but even still Canada should have brought the relationship to our attention long before now. He denied it outright when I asked him about it on the plane, so he's obviously lying to us. When I got here it was clear that Canada had seen Alfred, but he didn't do anything to help his brother. He could have untied him or stayed with him. He could have done anything, but it looked like he came in to look at Alfred and then left."   
Having not seen the Northern twin and without the knowledge that Canada had been unable to breathe on his own unsupervised Britain assumed Russia had not injured his once lover that seriously. He was thinking whatever wounds Canada had were superficial.  
"I do know that he's been lying to all of us. He withheld invaluable information about his relationship with Russia. He put us all in danger, betrayed his brother... I don't know if Alfred can heal from what Russia told him, and... Gilbert... well…"   
Britain turned his head away from his allies. He never thought he would have sympathy for Prussia, but if Canada was in league with Russia then Canada was playing Gilbert like a fool. If Canada had withheld all this information, then he betrayed not only Alfred but Prussia as well.  
Every time Britain tried to think of anything that made his son look innocent it just didn't add up anymore. Having said what he needed to say Britain's eyes wandered away from the group and he stared off at the snowy fields.  
"Going after Canada could put us all in danger for nothing. We don't even know the exact hospital he is in and China is with him. You all have a right to know. It should be a group decision. Rather we go after him... or leave him here...."  
"Angelterre!" France reached out snagging the front of Britain's coat firmly and yanking the smaller nation in and right up to his bleeding, bruised face. "He is your son!"  
"A fact I am well aware of." Britain snapped France's way. "I want to bring him back to answer for what he has done, but we are on a tight time limit. We have to get Alfred help. What if this is just another way to keep Alfred in Russia longer? To keep all of us in Russia longer? The proof is in the damn house frog, and I didn't believe it until I saw the pictures! He was in bed with Russia. He should have told us that in November! He has betrayed us all."  
France stared at Britain in something close to disbelief. He just couldn't wrap his head around the idea that his shy, sweet son would ever do anything to hurt his family. Especially his brother. France had always been Matthew's confidant. Especially during the time Britain was speaking of. During the sixties and seventies Matthew had come to him many times to ask for his help and advice. France wasn't always good about paying that much attention to his son, but he did know Canada. This wasn’t like Canada. Canada had always come around asking for ways to try and help his brother. Even when he and America had been fighting nonstop. Canada had done what he could from afar even when their relationship deteriorated to a point where they didn't want to see each other for a while.   
France wouldn't believe this.  
"You listen to me, Angelterre. I will get him back if I have to do it monself. I will not leave 'em here."   
He let go of Britain's shirt and shoved him away. Britain reached up straightening out his vest. He didn't want to fight France over what had been said. He had been horrified and unbelieving when he had found out the truth as well. Even with all the possible treachery in the air he wanted to take Canada home. Alfred would need to deal with this emotional turmoil if he were to recover and to do that he would need his twin. Even if Canada was a traitor Alfred would still have to face his brother in anger and pain before the Southern twin could start to heal.  
"The nearest ally we have is Estonia. Take the car. Amerique cannot fly like that. Cross the border and get Alfred to a hospital there. Estonia will help us. I will go after Canada alone if I must."  
Britain looked to France. France had taken quite the beating from North Korea as such it made more sense for Britain to go.  
"Take Gilbert, Alfred, and Italy to Estonia. I will go get Canada. Germany will you come with me or will you go with them?" Britain looked over at Germany. 

But before anyone could say anything else, Italy was jumping up and down, struggling to get everyone’s attention. Finally, when the fighting had stopped and they looked at him, he blurted out the little that he knew.  
“Uhh…huu…Canada is-a-truly injured!” He said. “He can’t-a-be faking it. I saw him!” He said. “China brought him-a-in to my room and asked me to watch him, because-a-he…he-a…he-a couldn’t breathe. I think…I think Norht Korea choked him…”   
Italy lifted a hand and started to pull on his hair and action Germany had never seen from him before. He frowned. He hated hearing about Italy’s time spent as a captive being so frightening for him.  
“I…I don’t-a-know exactly what-a-happened. I don’t-a-know why he would fight with North Korea if they are-a-allies. China said something-a about needing him for something…but they didn’t say-a-about what. I wish I knew more…”  
“He was-a-super hurt, ve. Mostly his-a-chest and-a-neck. China came back to my room to-a-take him to-a-the hospital. That was maybe an hour or two ago.”  
Still pulling at his hair, Germany reached out, gently taking his hand. Wordlessly, he pulled it away. Then, facing the group, he spoke next.  
“I think it’z important to get Canada back,” he said. “Regardless of his involvement vith Russia, ve need ansvers either vay. Things are vay too undetermined to draw any convlusions as of zee time being. Traitor or not, ve don’t ‘ave zee time to judge. Ve need to have von of his father’s come unt check him out of zee hospital unt den ve need to get him out of Russia before Russia himself vakes up. Once he does…he may start sealing off zee boarders to try unt trap us inside zee country. If Canada is innocent, ve need to get him zee hell out of ‘ere. If he’s a traitor…ve vill vant to deal vith him ourselves anyvay. I’d hate to see him get away vithout reprocussions…”  
Lifting his blue eyes, he gazed at the countries around him and considered their options.  
“I agree vith splitting into two teams for dis mission. Ve need to get zee injured countries out of ‘ere as soon as possible. That vill mean Gilbert unt Amerika. Somevon healthy vill need to go vith them to vatch over dem unt take care of dem. And either Britain or France needs to go get Canada. Obviously…I must go with zee team dat heads to zee hospital Canada is staying in. I’m zee only muscle on dis team…”   
But of course, this put Germany in a terrible position. If he went with the team to go rescue Canada, it meant he had to decide on where to put Italy. On one hand, he never, ever, ever wanted Italy to leave his sight ever again. On the other…he thought that perhaps Feliciano would be safer out of Russia and in friendly territory. That, and Italy was good at comforting others when they were hurt or depressed…something both Gilbert and Amerika would need.   
But before Germany could really even consider it, Italy reached out, wrapping both of his arms around Ludwig’s elbow.  
“No,” he said as he gazed up at his lover. “No, I won’t-a-leave you again…”  
Germany looked to him, and as soon as he saw his sweet face he knew he’d already decided. They couldn’t be separated. Not for anything. Never again. If Italy was at his side, Germany knew he would keep him safe. There was no way Italy would ever get hurt…unless it was literally over his dead body. Someone would need to kill him if they were to get through to the innocent little country.   
Reaching out, Germany wrapped an arm around the smaller countries shoulders. He gave him a re-affirming squeeze. Then turning to face the others again, he said,  
“I think France, myself unt Italy should be on zee rescue team to retrieve Canada. Britain, you should take Gilbert unt Amerika unt get zee hell out of ‘ere. Zee reason I pick you to take zee injured is simple…I don’t think France beink in charge of two injured, highly unstable countries is wize. That unt…I think Amerika needs someone right now. Unt you’re zee only one that can do that…”  
Italy nodded, vigorously. In fact, as soon as Germany brought it up…he suddenly began crying. Startled, Ludwig looked to him.   
“Italy…”  
“S…sorry…” He quickly wiped at his face, his cheeks growing red from embarrassment. “It just…it-a-was-a…it-was-a…so horrible…I…I heard-a-everything…”  
It broke Germany’s heart to see Italy cry. Immediately, he pulled him in even closer, and when he did, Italy turned and buried his face in his chest. He trembled at the mere memory. Still holding onto his partner tightly, he faced France and Britain to see what they thought of his suggestion. 

Britain looked back to the car where his son was. He wanted to go be near America more than anything at the moment, so he was glad that he was nominated to take America to the hospital. After seeing his boy so broken up he wanted to comfort him and help him as much as he could. Like any good parent would. He wanted to spare his son from the pain he was feeling even if it was impossible. Britain motioned the other countries back towards the car. He was feeling physically sick just looking at Russia's house not to mention North Korea who was lying off in the snow unconscious. He was ready to leave the dreaded place behind.  
Britain was also pleased with the desired outcome of the team discussions. Although his attitude may have portrayed him as being cold towards his younger son, he didn't want to abandon Canada. Especially after what Italy had just said. He hated thinking about either of his sons hurt, and he had really only seen Canada injured one other time. When America had attacked his brother during the war of 1812 and burned Canada's parliament building Canada had gotten very ill. It was probably the worst fight the two brother's had ever had until the one that was bound to be coming as soon as the North American twins met again.  
With all the secrets and revelations Britain had learned out in the open he felt a huge weight off of his chest. Withholding any information would be their teams unraveling. Britain was glad everyone was now on the same page, and they could all focus on their tasks at hand. If they all hurried they'd be able to all be reunited in less than a day if they were lucky. He was just ready to get out of Russia and try and mend his broken family. That had to be his main focus now. America would need him in the days to come.  
As he walked through the snow he calculated their travel time in his head. Estonia was the closest to their geographical position without flying again. Unable to take a commercial plane now it would be best to go to their ally and ask for aid. Reaching the car he climbed into the driver’s seat while France climbed into the passenger seat allowing Germany and Italy the back seat and giving Germany the job of taking care of both Italy and America for the drive into town. 

Once they arrived he let Britain shot France a menacing look, "I don't know how much I trust you with something so important, Frog. This is a serious mission so do not mess it up." Britain let out a heavy sigh as he turned to look back at the road.  
"Germany will be there though so it will be all right. Just bring back our son. I will keep Italy's phone so you can contact me if you need to. I'm driving straight to the nearest hospital in Estonia. I'll have him expect your arrival, and I'll make the necessary preparations for all of you."  
Britain looked at France and then into the rear view mirror at Germany and Italy. His job was to retrieve Prussia and then drive like hell, and he hoped this job would go smoothly.

At the hospital China was reading a magazine in the waiting room. He had been in the hospital for about 5 hours now and his ancient back was starting to kill him. He had just sat his magazine down when he saw the three other countries walk into the waiting room. He was more than a bit surprised by their appearance. He stayed seated in his chair his eyebrows lowered in confusion as he looked from France to Italy to Germany, "What you do here?"  
France looked down at the other nation. A firm look overtaking his face. He stared down at the other nation and with unwavering determination asked, "Where is Canada?"  
China looked around France and at Italy as if looking for an answer to where the other nations had come from, but it was obvious China was not going to cause a fight in the hospital. Fights in medical establishments had been frowned upon for ages now. When France went to walk away to go ask the front desk where his son was at China raised his hand to the other nation, "He in surgery now. You cannot go see him yet."

“Surgery?” Italy gaped. With them being countries, a lot of the time doctors would forgo surgery in favor of letting them heal on their own with assistance mostly of pain killers to keep them comfortable. But there were some cases where healing went a lot more quickly if things were righted first, like with bones. Italy imagined that in Canada’s case, they had to do something for his windpipe. That would certainly help him heal faster.  
“Well…this is-a-good news then, ve? Canada will be-a-more-a-stable.”  
“Ja,” Germany agreed. No one was really all that concerned, simply because they knew Canada’s country was strong and whole. Therefore, he would certainly heal. And if he was having surgery, it meant he would only heal faster with whatever assistance the doctor was providing.   
Besides…no one in the group really knew how they felt about Canada. Unsure if he was even on their team or not, it was hard to really be too worried for someone that they might have considered to be an enemy. Unsure of how they felt or what they thought, there was little they could do anyway but wait.  
“Unt he’ll most likely be on heavy pain medication due to zee surgery,” Germany said, trying to be at least a little bit positive. “He should ‘ave a pain-free transfer over to the…next location,” Germany said, careful of what came out of his mouth in front of China. “Dis vill make our job easier. France can sign Canada out of zee hospital unt ve can arrange transportation. All I vant is a shower…”   
And truly, the German did appear a bit rough. Grimy from his fight, bruises and a smidgen of blood still on his face, his usual impeccable appearance was more frayed than anything else. But although Italy was sure Germany did indeed want a shower…he was sure that the real thing he wanted was to just relax with him and forget this entire nightmare.   
They all did.  
“Ve’ll vait.” And with that, Germany and Italy headed for the chairs near the wall.


	25. Hospital

Chapter 25  
Hospital

Back on the road, Britain let out a huge sigh of relief when he saw the sign welcoming him to Estonia. He’d been frightened for a while that perhaps they’d never make it out of Russia. But, they had, and what was more was that he was able to pull into the nearest hospital without incident. As he turned into the parking lot, he heard America groan in misery from the back seat.  
“Unawezome iz waking up again,” Prussia confirmed. But even so, America couldn’t seem to pull himself into full consciousness. Instead, he appeared as if he were trapped right on the cusp of it, never quite awake enough to respond to anything, but no longer lying still, or remaining quiet.  
Alfred’s head lolled to the side on Prussia’s lap and his golden brows wrinkled together in an expression of pain, but his blue eyes never opened. His breathing hitching all over again from his discomfort, he let out a pitiful moan. 

Britain had pulled the car into the emergency lane at the hospital. He put the car in park and spun around facing his son. He reached between the two front seats and reached back placing his hand on his son's shoulder.  
"Alfred if you can hear me you are at the hospital, love. I am about to get all of this taken care of. You are going to be fine." He gently rubbed his hand on Alfred's shoulder careful not to hurt his son. Prussia looked down at his boyfriend's brother with sympathy.  
"Don't worry unawezome." 

Britain had yet to explain the extenuating circumstances of what was going on with Canada to his boyfriend because he wanted Prussia to stay focused on taking care of America during the trip, but Britain knew he would have to tell Prussia soon. Britain sighed with relief as a medical worker knocked on his window. Britain quickly climbed out of the car and soon they were shooting pain killers into America's arm and transferring him onto a stretcher. Prussia was pulled out of the other side of the car and put into a wheelchair.   
Britain stayed by his son's side and held his hand until he was told he could go no further. Due to all the damage they took America straight back to surgery and Estonia was called immediately and told what was going on in his country. The nervous nation came as soon as possible when he heard America was in one of his hospitals. By the time Germany's company made it to the hospital with a still unconscious Canada in tow America had been released from surgery. It left Britain sitting in a chair between his two sons beds. He was at America's side every waking moment while Prussia was at Canada's side.   
Germany and Italy were given the room next door so they could clean up and change into clothes Estonia had brought in for all the world powers. Britain had yet to find the time to explain the fact that Canada may have been working with Russia. He was waiting for Germany to come back into the room so he could be with his brother during the revelation.

Germany and Italy had spent an awfully long time together in the other room. Not because of anything scandalous, but simply because they had really needed a lot of time to recover. Germany had to shower. Then Italy did too. Then they changed, combed their hair, and took care of the small bumps and bruises they found on one another.   
Neither had any serious injuries, but all the same Italy ‘aww’d’ and ‘ooo’d’ over ever nick he found on his boyfriend’s body. He kissed every injury he spotted, and was insistent on putting antibacterial cream on every scrape.   
And once that was taken care of…Feliciano broke down and cried for a decent amount of time. The couple sat together on the side of one of the beds, Germany holding his distraught boyfriend in his arms. As good a listener as always, he let Italy tell him all about the time he’d spent as Russia’s prisoner and all the horrible things he’s heard or seen.   
It took him some time to calm down, but once he had, the pair exited their room and headed down the hallway to meet the others. Germany, for one, was eager to see his brother. And Germany also knew that Italy would feel a lot better if he saw that America was ok. And so, the pair stepped inside the hospital room together.  
“Sorry for zee vait,” Germany said quietly. All of the countries were exhausted. The entire nightmare had brought them well into the evening. The sun had set outside, and now they all sat in chairs, worn and weary as the darkness of night pressed against the lighted windows of the hospital. No one appeared to be in good shape, or good spirits. Not even Italy, who looked like he’d just had enough as he leaned against Germany’s side. 

Britain had looked up when Germany and Italy came into the room. He turned back to the Southern twin and gently brushed America's hair out of his face once more. He was glad that his son could rest now that his pain was blocked by pain killers. He was oh so glad that his son was no longer suffering... physically at least. They would have to work on repairing his spirits the moment he woke up. Britain kept his hand on America as he slowly turned to face Prussia and then Germany.  
"I have not gotten around to telling your brother what I told you earlier. I was waiting for you to come back in here before I told him."  
Prussia looked up from where he sat.  
"Tell me what?" The albino looked from Britain and then to his brother with a confused look written on his face. "Tellz me what?" He asked once again when everyone seemed to hesitate about what to say next. Prussia looked back to Britain and he had never seen Britain look so positively gloomy. The English gentleman looked like he were ready to simply collapse from the horrors of the day.  
Britain took a deep breath and started to explain what had been said at Russia's home once more. He tried his best to break the news easily but there was no easy way to say it. He simply relayed what he knew. With each passing word Prussia seemed to tense up until eventually he was seething.  
"That is the dumbest damn thingz I havez ever heardz! I wouldz know if Mattie waz working with that arshlock! I zure az hellz would have notized zomehting like that! What the hellz Britain?" Prussia jumped up off of the bed and went to storm over towards Britain to give the blonde a good punch.

“Ah! Bruder!” Germany pulled away from Italy and reached out, grabbing a hold of Prussia’s shoulders. With a pair of strong hands, he halted him. “Stoppen!” Quickly, he turned his brother around so that he’d be facing him. Keeping a firm grip on his shoulders, Ludwig fixated his blue eyes on his older brother.  
“Ve have to believe him Gil…” he said gently. “Italy told me everythink he’s heard unt seen. Unt it matches up vith Britain’s story. Dat unt…Britain and Amerika ‘ave seen photos. Ve…ve have to believe dat Canada vas once vith Russia.” But Germany saw his brother’s face. He saw it tense. He saw the pain entering his red eyes. Very quickly, Ludwig continued.  
“Dat doesn’t mean he still is!” He added hurriedly. “Ve just don’t know enough to say vhat happened at dat house. If Canada vas still vith Russia…I imagine he vouldn’t have been beaten so badly like dis. Or…or maybe he turned on Russia for our sake. Ve just don’t know. Ve’ll have to wait unt ask him vhen he vakes up. So…”   
“So don’t give up on him yet!” Italy chirped from the side. 

Prussia's face tensed as he stared into his younger brother's face. Germany was trying to reassure him, but what Germany was saying just didn't help. His whole body was tense and as he thought about what Britain and Germany were saying, but he just couldn't let such words go. That's when Italy's cheerful voice cut through the room and Prussia realized how much the words pissed him off. He shrugged and then jerked back and away from his younger brother. He spun around to face Britain once more.  
"You donz know what yourz talking about! And I Don Notz have to believe such Scheiße(shit)" He turned to shoot a glare back at his younger brother before turning back on Britain. He shook with his rage, but he didn't go to attack Britain again. Instead Gilbert backed up against the bed his boyfriend was in and leaned against it. He stayed in front of Matthew protectively as he turned back to Britain. Gilbert didn't take his eyes off of Britain as he put his hand on the sheets and fished around for his boyfriend's hand. Eventually he found Matthew's hand which was wrapped with gauze and splinted. Both of Canada's hands had been broken. When Prussia found his boyfriend's fingers he carefully wrapped his hand around his boyfriends as if the move could somehow help the unconscious nation.  
"What ze hell did Russia do to all of you to make you zay zuch zhit? I havez known both of them for longz time. Canada waz terrified of Ruzzia like any sane country zhould be! That waz way back then. Matthew never waz with Russia." What Britain and Germany did not realize was that Prussia had met Canada on one of his business trips to Russia. It had not been a major encounter, but when they met at Russia's house Prussia had asked the skiddish nation if he was France's son. When Matthew had started to reply that he wasn't America, Prussia had laughed and asked if he was Canada.   
Back then Canada had been shocked that somebody knew his name and Prussia had always remembered their first, brief encounter. He remembered how timid Canada had been back then. There was no way that the timid nation had ever been with Russia in the way Britain was suggesting. Gilbert was sure of that. Proof be damned. Canada had been a nervous wreck when he'd been forced to come to Russia's house. He'd heard as much from the Baltic states. If Canada had been with Russia he would have known it. He had lived in the damn house during that time period. He had never seen any indication that Canada and Russia were together. Canada barely stayed more than a night and he was always trying to leave as soon as he arrived and what was being said about his boyfriend was just so awful he couldn't believe it. He would not allow this to be said about his boyfriend. With a glare Gilbert set his jaw and glared out at the room.  
"You have beenz mizinformed. I knowz he neverz waz with Ruzzia. I lived in that fucking houze! Canada never hadz relaionzhip with that arshloch."

Britain really just didn’t know what else to do about Prussia. Maybe there was nothing left to do. He’d done his duty in telling the ex-nation the truth. He couldn’t force him to believe it.  
“Gilbert…” he said gently. “I want…I want to believe like you do, more than anything. But I saw the Polaroid’s with my own eyes. I wouldn’t make something like that up. And America…” Reaching back, he carefully took his son’s hand as Gilbert took Matthews.  
“Perhaps you don’t know him well enough yet to understand how he reacts to things…but there is no doubt in my mind that he would have fought such a story just as viciously as you are right now. He loves Matthew…more than anyone else. He would have denied it until his dying breath. But when I found him…he was with those pictures…”  
Britain looked away from the group to hide his emotions. He would never, ever forget what his son looked like when he first walked into that room. He was sure he’d have nightmares about it.   
“Look…all we can do now is wait for the boys to recover. Then we can talk to both of them when they wake up.” ((Or really…Canada won’t be able to talk at all, and he’s just gunna have to lay there and watch America decline and sink down into depression. Stupid crushed trachea!))  
Almost as if on cue, a small groan escaped America’s lips. His hand twitched in Arthur’s grasp as he started to finally come back around after his surgery and all the drugs he’d been given.

Gilbert squeezed Matthew's hand as Britain quickly rose from his chair and went to America's bedside. He would never believe what Britain had just said. Not until Matthew said it himself. Until then he would believe in his boyfriend. His red eyes went down to the waking nation on the bed. America had succumbed to whatever lies Russia had told him. What Britain was saying was proof of that. He slowly let go of his boyfriends hand and started to slowly walk to other side of America's bed giving Britain his space to interact with his son. If America still believed Russia's lies Gilbert would set him straight. It was his duty to do it since Matthew was still unconscious. He watched America and Britain from a few feet away and waited to see what would happen.  
Britain carefully sat on the edge of the bed and reached out with both of his hands. Gently he placed his fingers on America's forehead and brushed all the hair out of his face.  
"There you are, love. Everything is going to be all right." He gently ran his hands through his son's hair like he had done when America had been smaller. Unsure of if America understood where he was he wanted the young lad to know he was safe. "We are at the hospital. You are safe. You will be fine in just a few days or so. Then I can take you home. You are on some pretty serious painkillers and you just came out of surgery so take it easy."

Alfred heard his father’s voice. And even through the numbness in his body from the drugs…he felt his gentle touch. He knew then that he had finally been rescued, even before he opened his eyes. Slowly, he lifted his eyelids and focused his blue eyes on Britain’s face. Seeing him there, his worried green eyes so close, did indeed make him feel safe.   
America glanced around himself. He saw that he was indeed in a hospital bed and in a hospital room. He let out a large sigh of relief. Licking his dry lips, he croaked out a few words,  
“Thank God…” Looking to Britain he asked. “And…Italy?” Britain quickly nodded.  
“Yes, he’s safe too.” Alfred let out another long sigh. He hadn’t yet seen Prussia since his vision was swimming from the drugs he’d been given. And he hadn’t seen Canada in the bed beside him either for the same reason. Prussia would notice, that Alfred didn’t ask about Canada.   
For a moment, America only laid there appearing a bit dazed, but then…Britain would watch as his oldest son’s face started to crumple back in on itself just as it had when he’d rescued him from his prison. His blue eyes winced from the emotional pain of his betrayal. And in only another matter of seconds, Britain would see tears glimmering in his son’s eyes for more times than he could bear.   
“Ma…Matt…Matthew…” he groaned in misery to his father. “He…he left me there…” And quite suddenly…America was getting very upset, very quickly. His breathing picked up speed and his heart monitor beeped more quickly as his heart started to race with the stress of the memory. “He left me! He left me in that room! With Russia! He left me!”

Prussia`s red eyes widened with the words America spoke. He had not been at Russia's house. He didn't know the validity of the claim. In any other circumstance he would have believed anything America had said, but the way America was saying his brother had left him. America's normally energetic voice was full of heart wrenching tones. Only a year ago Prussia would have never thought the Southern twin would be capable of such fierce emotion, but here America was breaking down in the hospital room over something he was accusing his twin of doing.   
He knew America believed Canada had been working with Russia with that one stuttered sentence. He could hear the pain of betrayal in America's voice. As Prussia looked back he saw Britain's face flash with anger. His bushy eyebrows lowering as his older son spoke of this alleged betrayal. Prussia watched as Britain gently went to wipe America's eyes dry for him.   
Britain was gently tending to his son until Prussia marched forward. The albino reached across the bed and shoved Britain's hands aside immediately pissing off the English gentleman, but Prussia didn't care. Prussia reached out turning America's head, but he was mindful not to hurt him. Despite Britain's enraged screams he made sure the Southern twin was looking at him before continuing.  
"Now you lizen to me, America!"   
He said with a firm voice. He wasn't angry with America, but his face had a desperation to it that Prussia needed America to see. Prussia was desperate for the truth. He was being torn apart while he waited for his boyfriend to wake up, but until Matthew woke he would not let America drown in self pity over a betrayal that he just could not believe. Taking a deep breath Prussia continued.  
"And you lizen to me good! I donz know what ze hell is going on! Everyone iz acting fucking crazy all of the sudden! People are saying thingz that donz make any verdammt senze! I donz know what Matthew did or didn't do in the past. I do notz know whatz he did or didnz do when he came for you at Russia's. I donz know why he never toldz you he wentz to Russia in the seventiez. I do know this though. Whatever he did, he tried to do his best for you! I havez only known him a few years, but I knowz your bruder lovez you! I canz zee that! I zee it all the damnz time! He wouldz not do the thingz you are zaying he would do! So you stoppen this right now! Matthew is still unconscious from North Korea nearly breaking his neck and until he wakes up we donz know anything for sure! Until thenz you snapz the hell out of it! Matthew would not want you to be zo fucking zad!"  
Prussia took a deep breath and stepped back from the bed panting. He slowly felt himself going a little crazy. Having spoken his peace to the Southern twin he strolled back over to the Northern twin’s bed. Unable to do much more he simply sat beside his boyfriend once more and took his broken hand back into his own.  
Britain stood by America's bed seething.  
"Now listen hear you ruffian!" He squeezed America's hand firmly in his own, "Don't you dare scream at MY SON or I'll have you removed from the premises! Do you understand me!"  
At the mention of being removed from his boyfriend's side Prussia shot a glare of rage Britain's way.  
"Juzt try it!"

America felt like his brain had been put into a blender. He was as scrambled and as confused as could be. He hardly knew what was real and what wasn’t, and he hardly even heard what it was Prussia was yelling at him about. But…one thing did get through to him.   
Blinking, the tears on his face drying, Alfred turned his head to try and find Prussia again.  
“Ma…Matt. Matt got hurt?” He went to sit up, but of course, this was a bad idea. Even with all the pain medication…it caused him too much pain. With a groan, he had to lay back down. Britain started fussing over him, but…Alfred needed to see his brother. Turning his head, he looked out and to the second bed beside him.   
There was Matthew. Unconscious. Beaten, covered in bandages. A big tube was coming up and out of a throat that looked like it’d been torn to hell.   
Prussia could see then, clearly on America’s face…that even though he truly believed Matthew to be a traitor…seeing him hurt caused him just as much grief as it would have had he not believed he was a traitor.  
“Matt…” His tears started to come back. And still feeling so thoroughly confused, he looked to Prussia. “You said North Korea did this? But…why? I thought he was with Russia?” America lifted a hand to his forehead, pressing his fingertips into his temples.  
“Wait…no…Matthew was fighting Russia…” But America didn’t seem like he was even sure. He blinked a few times, clearly foggy on what was real, what was a story and what was a nightmare. It had all been so traumatic and so crazy that he just couldn’t keep it all straight.   
“Matthew…Matthew said…he was worried about me…but Russia…and those pictures…Russia…Matt had his phone number…and he said…said he hated me…he wanted me to suffer and I…I was…”  
He lifted both hands to his face, covering his eyes. Everything was cluttered together. And try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to sort it out into anything that made sense.   
“It’s all such a blur…but…but…Matt shouldn’t be hurt…he shouldn’t ever…ever be hurt. Even if…he does hate me…I don’t care.” 

Britain leaned over America. He reached out and wrapped the other nation up in his arms.  
"Shh. Just relax, love." Britain soothed his confused child, "I will sort all of this out." Britain held onto America with strong, but gentle arms. He carefully pulled his son into a hug.  
"I saw the pictures of your brother too. I am going to get to the bottom of this, and if Matthew hurt you I will deal with it. You just relax and try to stay calm. Just stay calm. I told France to go get you one of those wretched burgers you love so much." Britain let out a weak scoff as he held his son close and thought of Alfred's favorite food. Then the island nation thought about something Alfred had said.  
"Alfred... Matthew did not have Russia's number. He tried to get it from me, and when I told him no he got it from Germany. The last time I saw your brother he was determined to go to Russia's house. He was trying to make an attempt to keep Russia away from you and Italy until we arrived. Russia called me and told me about... everything over the phone. I... I did not believe him. I told Canada what he said, and your brother was desperate to get to you. He was desperate to stop the mind games. He seemed like he was worried sick. He called Russia to come get him to stall for time. He took a second tracker with him, he said you would not be with the first tracker. He could sense you were elsewhere with that twin sense of his. I do know Canada left the second tracker with you. It was concealed in Canada's jacket. We found it on you."  
Prussia seemed a bit more hopeful as the nations started to talk. He stood up and ran back over to America and stood beside his bed.  
"You said he fought with Russia? That's a good sign. He left the tracker with you, and everyone made it out safely. Zee. He waz tryingz to help, unawezome."

Alfred looked up at Britain and Prussia, his blue eyes starting to get a bit of his old spark back into them. He was clearly eager to accept any hope offered to him. After all, he’d been dead set against the idea of his brother betraying him to begin with. He had been certain it was a lie. If Russia didn’t have those two measly pictures…Alfred never would have believed him. Not in a thousand years.   
And so, being offered a different explanation, even an incomplete one, seemed to bring him back to himself a little bit. And outside of prison walls, and without the threat of Russia bringing him more pain, it was a lot easier to believe in something good. Surrounded by friends and family, his blue eyes seemed to reignite with his usual spunk.  
“He…he did leave that jacket with me. And…and he went to fight Russia for me! And…and if he had to get that phone number from Germany, then Russia was lying to me about that too! I bet…I bet my bro is just…just…the best damned bro ever!”   
All the same, he suddenly started crying again.  
“And I…I didn’t believe in him hard enough…” 

On the other bed the smaller twin slowly started to stir. He had heard yelling and now he heard people talking softly to one another. Unable to open his eyes at first, he slowly realized how uncomfortable he was. He tried to assess his condition without bringing too much attention to himself. He still wasn't sure if he was a prisoner or if he'd been rescued so he wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Then he felt a stab of panic run through his body when he realized he couldn't speak. The panic turned into horror when he realized something was in his throat and he also couldn't seem to breathe on his own. He immediately started to panic on the bed. Unsure where he was, or what was going on he started to thrash around on the bed. Sheets, tubes, and wires quickly flew around as he started to flail his bandaged arms.  
Immediately Prussia spun around and looked at his boyfriend.  
"Matthew! Calm down!" He hopped up on the bed and reached out taking a hold of his boyfriend’s arms so Matthew wouldn't hurt himself.

Alfred looked over, fear piercing him as he saw Matt start to fight the hospital equipment. He instinctively went to get up again, but thankfully, Britain was there to keep him still.   
“Alfred, no!” He ordered. Knowing he was too weak to go to him anyway, all he could do was call out.  
“Matt! Hey Matt! I’m sorry bro! I…I let Russia get to me! I know the truth now! I know you’d never betray me! Ok? So…so calm down! You’re in a hospital!” 

Canada opened his indigo eyes and saw the bright red eyes of his boyfriend staring down at him. He felt an immeasurable sense of relief rush through him. He stopped struggling and reached up to touch his boyfriend. Slowly he placed his casted hands on Gilbert's face. He could see that Prussia was fine. He didn't look hurt at all. Seeing Matthew studying him Gilbert reached out taking a hold of his boyfriend's hands to reassure him. Prussia smirked down at his boyfriend.  
"You're okayz Matthew. Everyonez iz fine. You need to rezt up. Britain and Unawezome have a few questionz for you." The albino reached out gently brushing Matthew's hair out of his face. He leaned down kissing his boyfriend on his forehead, "I'm glad you’re ok."  
Canada stared up at Prussia. He would have smiled if he could, but at the moment it was impossible. He felt his spirits lifting as his boyfriend spoke to him, but having heard his brother's voice Matthew tried to turn and look across the room to see his twin. He was terrified for his brother. He couldn't remember anything after he'd fought Russia. Was Alfred ok?   
That's when his mind started to race. When he'd last seen Alfred his twin had been so injured. Alfred had been talking nonsense in Russia's home too. Panic started to fill Canada again, and he tried to move to look at his brother. Unfortunately the action was more of a mistake than he realized. He felt his muscles spasm as a sharp pain tore its way from his jaw down into his abdomen and the heart monitor beeped abnormally as pain raced through him. He was forced to settle back into the bed.   
Even with the minor setback Canada's eyes went to the corner of his head as he tried to see his twin, but he couldn't see through Prussia. Prussia seemed to sense his boyfriend's dilemma and carefully got out of Canada's line of sight. Finally Matthew was able to see his twin across the room and he felt so much stress leave his body. Britain was holding America. He could tell that his brother was hurt, but they would both be healed in a day or so. Matthew fell back on the bed and unable to do much else he held out his plastered hand in his brother's direction. He knew his twin couldn't reach him, but being only a few feet closer made him feel better somehow. Prussia saw his boyfriends arm tremble from the effort of holding it up. He gently reached out taking Matthew's outstretched hand in his own and smiled down at the wavy haired twin.  
"America will be fine. You should rest."  
Britain clung to his older son as Prussia settled Matthew down across the room.  
"It's ok Alfred. There's no need to cry. Russia had some pretty damning proof. Both of those Polaroid’s were enough to...." Britain looked across the room to his younger son, "make us doubt him. We are still going to have to get to the bottom of those pictures. They did not just invent themselves, but like I said. I will handle it."

Prussia sighed across the room as the talk of the photographs came up once more. He looked at his boyfriend and figured he mind as well ask. Being as blunt as ever and not a bit shy Prussia asked his question in front of everyone.  
"Matthew. Remember our first time, right? You said I was the first person you slept with right?"  
Matthew was unable to speak, but his face quickly turned a bright red as Prussia spoke so freely of their sex life in front of all the super powers. He was only glad France wasn't in the room. Unlike France, Canada had always been shy about such things. His embarrassment from Prussia mentioning such things in front of the others was quickly portrayed by the heart monitor which started to beep a bit faster.  
Seeing that his injured boyfriend was freaking out about the question Prussia hoped it was enough to convince everyone that Canada hadn't slept with anyone before himself. Prussia thought it was better to ask the question right then and there. He opened his mouth and asked.  
"Matthew. Did you sleep with Russia. Ever? There seems to be some evidence that you did."  
It seemed that the heart monitor flat lined as the question was just thrown out there into the open. Matthew's bright red face immediately paled as his eyes widened in horror. Had he been in a better position he would have denied the accusation, as he had done on the airplane, but even with his injured body he quickly moved his arms in a no motion and once more tried to shake his head no. His body seized up once more with pain as his hands went back to clutch at his injured neck as the heart monitor beat erratically and Matthew cringed in pain.

“Stop it Gilbert!” America cried from his spot on the other side of the room. It seemed that he had taken that tiny shred of hope he’d been given and had completely run all the way back to the beginning of the race with it. His face was full of determination, and he had the same look in his eyes as he did back when he was trying to be a protective big brother. It seemed that doubting his brother’s loyalty had simply been too much for him. He would much rather go back to believing in him, even if they didn’t have any answers to the things Russia said or how the pictures had been made.   
“He’s clearly been through enough! We’ll ask him questions later, when he’s feeling better! I don’t…I don’t want to be the reason he’s hurting anymore!” 

Prussia reached out gently playing with Matthew's hair.  
"Sorry Birdie. I didn't mean to make you hurt yourself. We'll talk about this later. You need to rest. You should be a lot better by tomorrow. Your health care system will take care of this. No problem."  
Canada however was far from going back to sleep or resting. With such things being asked he was confused and horrified all at the same time. He looked around with his eyes frantically trying to deduce what was going on, but he really couldn't do much else at the moment.   
"It's alright Alfred. You're both going to be fine. You didn't hurt your brother. He didn't hurt you. You're both going to be fine. Blimey. You two kids will be the death of me I just know it." Britain let out a heavy sigh as he lowered his hand to his chest and took in a deep breath. He was just glad that both of his kids were safe and within arm’s length. Britain looked across the room at his second son who was simply lying on the bed staring at the ceiling and down to the one he held in his arms, "I can get Germany to help me move the bed if you want to be closer to your brother."

And America looked like that was positively the best idea he’d ever heard in his entire life. Quickly, he nodded, his face contorting with the sudden need to be with his twin. Everything had been so maddening, his entire world turned over and on its head. But the one thing he knew he just had to rely on was that bond he had with his twin brother. It was something that could never be severed.   
Even if it ended up that he had been betrayed…that bond would still be there. Even if it hurt. And so, he nodded again.   
Germany lifted his head when his name had been mentioned. He was leaning up against one of the walls. Italy, seemingly had fallen asleep while standing up against his side. Reaching out a hand, he shook the small country awake.   
“Hm…Grermnny…” he muttered. Smiling softly, Ludwig guided his partner to the nearest chair. Gently, he helped him to sit down in it. Once he was settled, he started over to America’s bed. He looked fairly exhausted himself, probably from all the stress, but all the same, he continued to work for the team without complaint. He waited for Britain to come beside him, then both nations together pushed Alfred’s bed across the floor. They kept going until both hospital beds were together, only the crack of their mattresses separating them.   
Unable to really move, Alfred immediately reached out his hand for his brother. Grabbing onto his arm, a part of him that wasn’t injured, he squeezed him with what little strength he had. Immediately he felt more relieved.   
“I’m sorry Matt…” he said softly. “I…should have believed in you harder…I let Russia get to me. I’m sorry…” 

Canada felt his brother's hand on his arm. He was thankful that Alfred was by his side. It helped ease his rattled nerves. Not able to do much else Canada slid his hand over towards his brother hoping his twin knew that he was thankful for his presence. Then he felt Prussia climb up onto the bed with him. Canada felt his boyfriend lay down at his side. Prussia crawled under the sheets with his boyfriend and wrapped Matthew up as tightly as he dare. With a kiss on the cheek Prussia started to doze off once more.  
Across the room Britain clapped his hand on Germany's shoulder as a show of appreciation to the muscular nation.  
"Thanks chap." He looked over at Italy, and a grin found its way to his face, "You best take him to bed, or he will fall out on the floor. I think we are all right for the night. I'm going to stay here with the boys. I guess I will see you in the morning."  
Prussia picked his head up as Germany started to leave.  
"Good night, Bruder. Sleep vwell."

Chapter 26  
Clearing Things Up

Of course, no one could have really expected an easy night. America woke up screaming only an hour after the lights had been turned out. And of course, Britain was right there at his side. Scooping his upper body into his arms, he immediately soothed his distraught son, running a hand through his hair and telling him everything was just fine, that he and his brother were safe. America clung to his father, shivering in his arms, his blue eyes wide with fright.  
But America wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. Over at the hotel room Germany and Italy had rented, a small, sensitive country was pressed firmly into Germany’s chest. Clutching his larger, stronger boyfriend, Italy cried into his shirt. Ludwig couldn’t do much for him…other than hold him, and wish to God that the horror he experienced at Russia’s would soon fade.   
But eventually the morning came, and the nightmares ended. Another day was spent at the hospital, and a ton of phone calls were made to the countries bosses to explain where they’d been and what was going on. Then the rest of the day was spent playing cards, reading, or watching sports on TV.   
Then that day came and went and another came in its place. The cycle continued until on the third day. America was feeling much better by then. Able to sit up on his own and having gotten most of his energy back, he was looking more and more like himself. His smiles came more frequently, and the number of tears he shed was reduced. And on this day, the nurses announced that it was time to help Alfred out of bed and onto his feet, and also, they would remove the tube from Canada’s throat.   
Both twins were healing quickly, even by countries standards. Britain suspected it was because they were together, and were constantly able to see that the other was alright.  
“Its fine, Britain can help me,” America was telling the nurse. He had already picked out the outfit he wanted to wear for the day, clothes being brought to him by his fathers. He was clearly eager to get to his feet and change into his street clothes over the stupid hospital gown he’d been stuck in.   
“I don’t know sir…if you fall and get hurt, the hospital is liable, and if I’m not helping you then…”  
“Ah, liable-shmiable! Look sister, it’s pretty simple, it’d be way too freaking weird for you to help me change clothes…you’re a chick.”  
“Hon hon hon! But that is ‘alf le fun, non?” France interrupted. He was already wearing his perverted face, even first thing in the morning. America rolled his eyes.   
“Yeah, cuz that’s not creepy at all. Come on Arthur! You’re the only one here who won’t molest me, let’s go, chop-chop!” The nurse, frustrated, threw her hands in the air.   
“Fine! But I’m telling the doctor that this wasn’t my fault!” And then she stormed out of the room. 

After three days of being able to do nothing more than lie on his back and stare up at a bland ceiling Canada was thankful when the doctor and nurses came over to take the tube out of his throat. Canada had to suffer through a few uncomfortable minutes as the doctors made their preparations and started to un-tape the plastic tube from around his mouth. After a few minutes and a lot of hacking Canada was finally free. Having not talked in days his throat was dry and scratchy. He lay in bed sucking on ice chips trying to squeak out a few meager words. After a few more minutes and a glass of water Alfred could hear Canada’s soft voice once more. He was asking someone to stop doing something.   
Once America and Britain came back into the room they saw Canada and Prussia lying in bed together once again. Prussia had spent most of the past two days at the side of his incapacitated boyfriend. Once again the nation and ex-nation were lying side by side, and Prussia had the remote for the bed in his hand. Now that Canada could actually move Prussia was pressing the button on the remote and raising the bed up. Once it was upright he proceeded to press the down button and take the bed back down. Canada had put up with it the first few times. But that ship had sailed and now the wavy hair twin was giving his boyfriend a look that said ‘would you stop that’.   
Then there was the fact that his papa was half on Canada’s bed and half on America’s bed since they were still side by side. The pervy nation was wrapped around his son’s waist squeezing him close. France was squeezing his son as tightly as he dare and kissing him on his forehead and cheeks. Matthew looked over when his brother and father came back into the room. He was quietly begging for help, but he didn’t say anything.  
“Alfred.” He said in a quiet, scratchy voice. He was glad that he could finally speak again, “I’m so glad you’re better.” He was smiling at his brother when Prussia pressed the button and the bed started to descend once more. Matthew’s face crinkled up as he started the slow journey back down with France still on top of him, and Prussia was more than happy to ignore his old friend and play with the bed remote.  
“Blimey! Frog! Would you give the lad some breathing room!” Britain’s face scrunched up as he yelled across the room and helped Alfred back to his bed.  
France reached up and gently pinched Matthew’s cheek, “Bu’ I finally have mon petite, back! I will squeeze du forever Matthieu. Papa will nevar let you go again!”

Oh, but Alfred wasn’t getting back into bed. Oh no. No matter how weak he was, there was no way he was letting any of this pass! Letting go of Britain, who’d been supporting him, Alfred took a few unsteady steps forward on his own, his face looking very determined.   
“Alfred!” Britain cried when he saw his son stumble. But he held out his hands and caught himself on the foot of Canada’s bed before he went down. Righting himself, and using the edge of his brother’s bed for support, he shimmied his way to the side that Prussia was on.   
“Stop that!” He barked. Reaching out, he grabbed the controls away from him. “Can’t you see you’re annoying the piss outta him?” Putting the controller down on the nightstand, America then started back around to the other side.   
His knees shook and he really did not look all that stable. But he hardly seemed to care as he reached his own bed. Then, stretching out his arms, he grabbed onto France’s shoulders and struggled to pull him off of Canada. But…for once in his life…he hadn’t the strength to do so.  
“Get off of him you perverted old man!” 

“Oh don be mean Amerique! I jus’ want to make sur your brothar knows he is well loved!” When it became apparent a bit of muscle would be needed to remove the annoying country Britain came up beside his injured son reaching over Alfred’s bed. He grabbed onto his brother and dragged France off of Canada.   
The older country whined like he were a child, but after a short struggle Britain managed to drag the taller country off of the bed and away from his sons.  
“Thank you.” Canada smiled at his brother and father. Something Alfred had not seen his brother do in about a week.  
Matthew reached out across the bed putting his hand on his unsteady brother. Not really in much better shape, but wanting to help his brother Matthew grabbed onto Alfred’s shirt to help him back onto the bed.  
“Alfred.” The sensitive nation slowly started to tear up a bit as he was finally able to look his brother over. He hadn’t been able to look straight at Alfred since he’d been admitted in the hospital, and he surely hadn’t been able to hold his brother since this whole nightmare had started. The last time he had seen his brother Alfred had been injured and tied up on Russia’s floor. It had been one of the most horrible things he’d ever seen, and he’d been having nightmares about it for days. He just hadn’t been able to tell anyone what he’d been dreaming about when he woke up… or make a noise… the whole experience of the last few days had been horrible.   
Suddenly not caring about the consequences Matthew lunged across the bed much to the shock of everyone in the room, and threw his arms around his twin for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He held his brother close and gave him a gentle squeeze.

America let out a startled cry, and as unsteady as he was, he immediately toppled to the floor, dragging his brother down with him.  
“Alfred!”  
“Matthew!” The brothers found themselves lying on the hospital tile, but neither had been hurt. Alfred, finding his little brother on top of him, clinging to him, shaking, immediately lifted his arms to wrap him up in a tight embrace. Or at least…as tightly as he could manage. Canada would easily be able to feel how weak his brother had become. All the same, America didn’t let him go. He quickly buried his face in his brother’s hair.  
“I’m so sorry Matt…” he said quietly. “I should have believed in you harder…I…didn’t believe enough…I saw that picture and I…I let it…I let it fool me…” Alfred shook from the mere effort it took to remain sitting up, and to hold his brother. “Sorry bro…”

Matthew was a confused by his brother’s words, but he wrapped his arms around his brother all the more tightly trying to ease the physical strain on his twin. He remembered very little from the first day in the hospital, but he thought he remembered Prussia asking him something strange when he’d first woken up in the hospital. He also thought he remembered some picture being mentioned once before. What was wrong with a picture? How had a picture fooled his twin?   
Confused Matthew decided it would be best to just ask.  
“What are you talking about Al? What picture? Is this about what happened at Russia’s? I’m not mad. I know he hurt you. As long as you’re ok now, eh, then I’m ok too.” Thinking it was as simple as that Matthew squeezed his twin once more.  
Britain got on the floor beside his sons. He gently reached out and helped support Alfred. Then he turned his green eyes on Canada.  
“We saw the picture of you at Russia’s house. Two Polaroid’s in fact. We need to talk about them. In one you were injured.”  
Canada pulled his face away from his brother so he could look at his father. He was glad when Prussia came to his side and offered him support to stay upright. Despite the weakness in his body he knew he had to continue with the conversation at hand. An ashamed look coming over his features. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Britain was talking about.  
“I… I didn’t know he took a picture of that. I didn’t go to Russia’s by choice then. I just wasn’t in any shape to say no. I’m sorry. I knew if you found out you’d be upset at Cuba. I didn’t want to push you when you were already having so many other problems, Al. Maybe I should have brought it up, but it happened so long ago I didn’t think any good would come from ever bringing it up. I just forgot about it, but still you were really upset, Al. Even if Cuba beat me up why would that make you think I was a traitor?”  
Britain cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Canada looked at his father as Britain’s face became suddenly serious.  
“We saw the other thing too.”  
Canada quirked his head to the side in confusion as he looked between his family members.  
“Eh? Other thing?” He asked quietly. He had no idea what Britain was referring to. Britain was beating around the bush and looked off to the side.  
“He had another Polaroid. So there’s no real use denying it. We… we’re coming to terms with it.”  
“I don’t understand.” Canada blinked as he looked back at his father and then to his brother, “Coming to terms with what?”  
“We saw you in bed with him, Matthew.” Britain reached up running his hand through his hair, “We know you slept with Russia in the seventies.”  
The indigo eyes of his twin suddenly widened. They looked as if they may pop out of his head at any given moment. His mouth moved up and down like a fish out of water for a minute as Canada tried to work through what he’d just heard.   
“Wh-wh-WHAT?” His scratchy, raw voice cracked as he yelled in horror. He immediately started coughing, but he waved off assistance as he looked back at his two family members, “Wha-what are you talking about!? I-I never!” He stuttered on the last word and then turned to look at his twin, “I went to Russia, yes. I nev-never did that with him though! I-I barely even saw Russia! I would never-NEVER sleep with him!” He stared at Britain and America in horror. A genuine look of horror on his young face.   
If Britain had not seen the pictures it would have been easy to believe his son.  
“Matthew. It was a Polaroid. It couldn’t be faked… There’s really no use in denying it.”  
“No! You- you don’t get it! I didn’t sleep with Russia! I have never slept with anyone before Gilbert! I- I didn’t- I” Matthew’s voice caught in his throat as he raised his hand to his chest his breathing coming in short gasps as he started to outright panic. Britain immediately became alarmed and reached out a hand to support the Northern twin.

America immediately reached out, holding his brother even more tightly. He squeezed him to his chest. He shuddered, this time not from being weak. All the same, he didn’t let Matthew go.  
“I believe you now…” America said. “I know you wouldn’t do that. I told…I told Russia that. I told him you’d never…never do that. But he said you were mad at me and I…I knew you were. And he said…I didn’t notice…I didn’t notice you leave for his house because…well…I…I was so smashed from drugs back then. And I didn’t know how he’d know those things if you didn’t tell him yourself. And I thought…I thought you must have been so mad at me…so mad at me that you might’ve…”  
Canada felt America’s heart pick up pace at the memory. He felt his brother tremble in his arms as he tried to talk about what it was Russia had done to scramble him so badly.   
“I denied it. I told him he was crazy, that I’d never believe him, that you were my brother and I would believe in you. But then…he had that picture…”   
Alfred buried his face in his little brother’s hair, hiding his hurt expression from his father’s so they wouldn’t see.   
“You looked really smashed bro…” he whispered so only Matthew would hear him. He just couldn’t stand it if Britain or France heard him talking in such a way. “Really smashed…Russia said you drank vodka with him…that you did it to forget me…to punish me…”   
He shivered again as if he could still feel how cold the air was around him, how the stone floor he laid on was like ice.   
“Y..y…you were naked and…” But he couldn’t finish. The memory of it clearly still far too painful for him.   
“B…but it’s ok. I believe you now. Even if it was a Polaroid. I believe you. He must have faked it somehow…no matter what it looked like. Right?” And it was evidently, plainly clear, that America was going to believe whatever his brother told him, regardless of logic or evidence, or argument. And that made Britain very, very nervous. Alfred could have been setting himself up for a horrific fall. And if he was crushed a second time…Britain just didn’t know if he would be able to get back up again. The island nation’s palms began to sweat.

“I only went there on business! I ne-never drank at Russia’s! We had dinner, but all of his subordinates were there. Russia and I were never alone. I don-don’t understand! I never-” Matthew drew in a sharp breath, “I only wanted to help you. I thought maybe I could help take the tensions off of you if I managed to talk to him, but he didn’t want to listen to me. He was always busy and controlling and….”   
Matthew wrapped his arms around his brother’s chest, “O-oh ma-maple…. O-oh no… I-I got si-sick over there once. I… I… Lithuania and Estonia… they said… I had f-food poisoning, but I…” His voice caught in his throat, “Oh my God. I couldn’t remember anything. I just slept and was nauseous and threw up for days. Th-they said I had botulism or som-something. Oh holy maple!”   
He looked up and around the room frantically, “Where is Estonia! Wh-what the holy maple leaf happened that night! Wh-why was I-I in bed with Russia!? Oh-oh God!” He started to panic again and pull away from his twin in an attempt to go find the other nation, “I was in bed with Russia!?” That thought made the younger twin’s face turn pale and for a moment it looked like he were stuck between being nauseous or passing out.

And quite suddenly, Alfred paled too. He’d been assuming the picture was faked somehow, in order to protect himself. But now…suddenly…it swung completely the other way. Now Matthew was saying that it wasn’t necessarily faked…but staged.   
And Alfred, being the big brother that he was, immediately assumed the worst and that Russia may have done something to his little brother while he was sick and unconscious.   
And that thought suddenly made everything that had happened to him so…very…much…worse. Not only did Russia torture him with the idea that his little brother betrayed him, but Alfred went on ahead and believed it when in truth he was being shown a picture of his little brother being…being…taken advantage of!   
And Alfred hadn’t done anything about it. No. He’d lay there on the ground, believing his brother to be the bad guy!   
It filled him with rage.   
Russia had made a fool of him.   
In more ways than one.   
He was probably laughing about it, right then! Thinking about how he’d hurt America’s little brother, then showed him the proof of that, and made him believe it was Matthews fault!   
America started seething. He started shaking, violently. He clutched his little brother in his arms. But soon enough, his fury was simply uncontainable.  
“Oh…oh I’ll kill him! I’ll fucking kill him!” He screamed. He was so upset he could barely think. But man…he knew what he had to do.  
“No one fucking touches my little bro!” And with that, America put his hands out onto Matthew’s shoulders. With a groan, his body shivering from the strain, he pushed himself up to his feet. “I’m gunna go kill him! I’ll kill him! I’ll fucking kill him!” Looking completely crazed, America started marching toward the hospital door, one shaky step in front of the other. He stumbled once, but caught himself, then started marching toward the exit all over again. 

Britain rushed up behind his son. His own features paling as he listened to the truth of what had truly happened. "He reached out wrapping his arms firmly around his older son's body, "Stop! Wait! You should not be up and moving like this. You are not going back to Russia. I can promise you that!"

On the floor Matthew waved Prussia off as he tried to take in the facts of what had just taken place.   
Matthew pointed Prussia at Alfred and thinking his boyfriend needed space Prussia backed off. He tried to respect his boyfriend's wishes and went to Britain to try and help with Alfred. He tried to assist the struggling British gentleman with his son. Soon Prussia, Britain, and France were helping Britain with Alfred. America was still weak, so Britain was enough to keep the nation from leaving, but America's rage made him struggle despite his injuries. France and Prussia were helping to keep the struggling nation from injuring himself further.

Matthew slowly stood up off of the floor. He walked towards his brother, and Prussia assumed he was going to say something to Alfred. He let Matthew approach, but as Matthew came up beside the group he turned and bolted out of the door of the hospital room. He tore down the hallway looking for someone who could set the events of the night in question in order. Clutching his chest as he breathed frantically, his blonde hair swished from side to side. His body shaking he ran as fast as he could through the hospital halls in his hospital gown looking for Estonia.  
(Germany could stop him)

 

Alfred could have cared less about his still healing injuries. He could have cared less about how much strength he'd recovered...which of course was very little. He hardly cared that if he tried to run off to Russia, he probably wouldn't even make it there. He had to try. He had to get out of that hospital, find a gun and go blast his face in. Perhaps several times.   
He hardly cared that if he went to go find him, he'd probably just get beaten and captured again considering his condition. He just didn't care.  
"Get off of me!" He screamed to the three countries holding him down to the floor for his own safety. He tried to fight them, but was simply too weak. "Get off! I have to do something about this! I have to!" And it was then that Canada ran by. America simply freaked when he saw him go. He started screaming.  
"Matt! Matt! Stop him! Matthew no!" America gave it all he had. And as a result, he started to hurt himself. And then he was screaming for a different reason.

But as America struggled, he really didn't need to worry. For as soon as Matthew ran down the hall, he ran face first into Germany's hard-packed, ripped chest. With an oof, the smaller country fell back onto the hallway floor. Germany blinked down at him, Italy as always at his side, several bags of McDonalds food in their hands.  
"Vhat...Canada. Vhat are you doink?" 

Prussia felt his heart leap out of his chest as his boyfriend left the room. He put both of his hands on America's shoulders, "Unawezome! I'll go get him! I'll bring him right back. Stay here. I'll be right back." Prussia pushed himself up off of the floor and turned, quickly bolting out of the room.  
For once in his life France wore a serious face as he held onto his older son, "Amerique. Get betta' first. Then we d'will deal with this. Du cannot do anything like dis. Gilbert will bring back your brothar. Settle down." He kept his hands on his son's shoulders so he could restrain him as gently as possible.  
Britain reached out pushing France aside. He wrapped his arms around America. With a firm embrace he pulled his older son to his chest. He clutched America tightly as his arms trembled, "Alfred I have to go get your brother. Then... I have to go kill someone.... Calm down, love. Francis watch Alfred. I'll go get Matthew. I'll be right back." Gently he pushed his son into Francis arms. He kissed his forehead and started to get up. France pulled the Northern twin into his arms and held him close to his chest. It was one of the rare times when France was not trying to pull anything. He just held his son close to his chest and made sure he was safe.

Out in the hall Canada looked up at Germany and Italy from the floor. His indigo eyes were wide and darting around in his skull. He was panting heavily from his small run down the hallway or from his raw emotions it really didn't matter at the moment. Matthew clutched at his chest and not answering the question Germany had asked he simply went to push himself up off of the floor. As he stood he went to dodge around the other two nations panting wildly.  
Prussia poked his head out into the hallway just in the nick of time. He shouted out to his younger brother, "Bruder! Stop him! Donz let him go!" Prussia quickly started to run down the hallway towards his boyfriend who was trying to get around Germany. Prussia saw Canada's move, "Matthew! Wait!"

"Matthew!" Alfred cried. "Don't let him go! Don't let him..." He would have kept fighting, would have struggled harder...but...he'd used up what little strength he'd had, and...he'd managed to hurt himself in his desperation. And so, when Prussia and Britain left, America couldn't do much but allow France to hold him.   
Normally one to fight his second father, and normally the first to voice his displeasure at being near him, he quite suddenly and uncharacteristically, turned and buried his face in his shirt. Although Alfred had been recovering quite nicely the past three days, clearly, the extra push that he'd just received had been enough to push him right back over.  
He was panicking, completely and fully. With his brother having left the room and his field of vision so suddenly, and being unable to follow, he was unraveling, and fast. Gasping for air, his heart racing, he started sobbing all over again. 

Out in the hall, Germany stared at the younger twin. He could hear America screaming from the hospital room. He sounded terrified, like he was completely losing it. Germany had no idea what was going on, but he soon heard his brother shout at him to stop Canada. As soon as the order was given, the little twin leapt up and went to sprint by his side. But Germany was quick. He immediately dropped the McDonald's bags he'd been carrying and struck out, snaring the back of Canada's shirt as he went to run by. Lifting him with ease, he hoisted him so that his feet left the ground. Holding him safely with both hands, it wasn't hard to restrain the weakened country.   
"Ok, I've got 'em. Now tell me vhat zee hell is goink on."  
Italy reached out, taking up the fallen food. 

Canada weakly started to struggle in Ludwig's arms. The smaller twin was unable to pull free. He still kept up his struggle until his knees gave out and he started to collapse to the floor.   
"Let me go! Let me go! P-Please! I-I have to go! I ha-have to a-ask Es-Est-tonia.... He was there. He- " He raised his hand to his chest as his air supply came in short gasps from his panic.

Prussia ran up to his boyfriend who had sunk down to the floor. Germany was still holding onto the back of his shirt, but Matthew had stopped trying to run. Prussia reached his boyfriend and reached out grabbing a hold of Matthew he pulled him into a hug. He buried the smaller man's head under his chin.  
"I'll go find him. Yourz ztill zick. Zo you need to rest. I'll go getz Estonia. I'llz drag his azz back here, and we'll getz to the bottom of zis. If thatz what you want I'll go back to Russia and..." Prussia's voice trailed off as he watched Matthew fiercely shake his head no at the last suggestion.

Prussia barely had time alone with Matthew when Britain came running to his second son and dropped down to his knees. Matthew was buried against Prussia's chest. Something Britain knew must have been painful for the ex-nation, but Prussia didn't bat an eyelash as he held his panicking boyfriend. Britain reached out gently running his hands through his son's hair.  
"I'm sorry Matthew. I'm sorry I ever listened to Russia. I'm sorry for what I said, love. Please believe me. I will go get Estonia. You go back and rest for now. When I come back we'll get answers. Just give me thirty minutes or so. Gilbert. Watch them for me." Then Britain got up a fierce look in his eye as he marched by Germany in a search for their host country.

Prussia let out a heavy sigh as he gazed up at his little brother and Italy. A sad look on his face as he pulled his boyfriend closer to his throbbing chest.  
"Thoze pictures... they were real, but he doezn't rememberz them. Zeemz Matthew waz zick and Russia took advantage of the situation while he was unconscious. Matthew doez not remember being with Russia. America is pretty upset.... Everyone is pretty upset.... Matthew said he was zick for few days. He thinkz Estonia or Lithuania would be able to clear up ze thingz he cantz remember...."  
A sour look came over Prussia's face. If Russia had hurt his boyfriend there would be nowhere for him to hide in his icy tundra. Prussia would find a way to get revenge. It was then that Prussia heard America's commotion from down the hallway. He carefully reached out sliding his arms underneath his boyfriend. In one smooth motion and with a slight cringe of pain that he suppressed like the expert solider he was, he held his boyfriend in his arms and started to walk Matthew back to the hospital room he shared with his twin. When he stepped through the door he decided to walk Matthew over to his twin.  
"Unawezome. He'z right here. Zee?" 

France had managed to get his son up off of the floor and back onto his bed. He was sitting with Alfred and comforting him when Prussia came back in with Matthew.   
"Oh Dieu merci" (Oh thank God) France said out loud, "See ma petite Amérique. Canada est de retour." (See my little America. Canada is back.)  
Prussia came over setting the smaller twin on the bed next to America.

America had been hysterical, and as soon as his brother was given back to him, he flung himself forward. He attacked his little brother like a leech, wrapping both arms and legs around his body. Burying his face in him all over again, this time…he didn’t let go.  
It seemed that the incident with Russia had created two countries who now suffered from separation anxiety to an extreme degree. America, who was clearly open about his terror of his brother leaving his side, and…Germany…who was a lot more subtle…but no less terrified when Italy left his sight.   
Always having been good at hiding his true feelings…only Italy had been able to notice. But because he was at Germany’s side most of the time anyway, it was easy for them to hide. It was only during moments such as when Feliciano had to use the restroom that Germany’s fears became prevalent.   
Stepping into the hospital room, the couple moved as one over to the beds of the twins. Germany sighed in seeing what a wreck America suddenly appeared to be, when just that morning…he’d thought he was almost completely back to normal. It was disheartening…but he understood…because he was going through almost the same exact thing.   
“Ve found a McDonalds,” Ludwig said to the huddling mass that was two people…but could hardly be told apart. “And ve got you your disgustink burgers.”  
“And-a-coke-a and fries!” Italy chimed in. But oddly enough for everyone present, America didn’t even lift his head from his brother’s side. He kept himself attached to him tightly, his weakened body trembling from the recent fright he’d just suffered. And on top of that, he was far, far too upset about recent news to eat. Fearing the worst for his little brother, he continued to hold onto him.  
“I’m not hungry…” he muttered. And at those wretched words, almost everyone in the room let out a gasp of shock. 

"Unawezome. You need to eat to keep you strength up." Prussia stood at the side of the bed and stared down at the back of America's head. Damn, he thought to himself, juzt when he was starting to get a bit better. Now we're back to zis.   
France was still sitting by America's side he reached out placing one hand on Alfred's head and the other on Matthew's. For once America could find comfort and no threat from the older nation.  
"Boys. We are famaly, non? We dwill take care of tis."  
Matthew had calmed a bit and was now very aware of his brother's presence at his side. Mostly because Alfred was somewhere between hugging and crushing him in his attempt to keep him close. Matthew blinked his indigo eyes and carefully reached out placing his hand on his brother's cheek.  
"Al.... I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never... I'm so sorry." Seemingly stuck on those words Matthew leaned towards his brother and kissed his cheek. Then he returned Alfred’s desperate attempt to hold him by slowly moving a bit. He wrapped his arms around his brother and held him just as close. He knew some of the truth and no matter the outcome he would never forgive Russia for torturing his brother so viciously like this. He had managed to break the other countries spirits ...twice...and Matthew hated that perhaps more than anything.   
"All my life... I wanted to keep you safe because no matter what. You are my brother. I hate that he did this. You don’t deserve this Alfred. I love you so much."  
He leaned down pressing his forehead to his brothers, "You need to eat and get your strength back. I... I am going to be ok. No matter what. You are so important to me Al and I love you. I-if you feel better I do too. Even if I get sad for a little bit. All of you are here for me. I am not alone and I will get better. So... Just... Calm down for me. Ok? Let’s try to eat. I... I haven’t eaten in days. I... I’ll even eat a burger."

Some of America’s anxiety seemed to leave him then. Seeing his brother, hearing his voice, feeling him at his side was enough to relieve a lot of it. But hearing him say that he was ok…was the biggest relief of all. Maybe…if he doesn’t even remember it…then…maybe it’s not so bad for him. He thought hopefully.   
A bit hesitantly, he loosened his grip on his twin. But before he released him, he looked to him with an awfully, dreadfully, serious face.  
“Don’t run away from me so suddenly like that. Don’t run away and not tell me where you’re going!” He chastised. “I thought you were going back to Russia!”   
Italy was jabbing Ludwig in his side with his elbow. Harshly. Over and over again.  
“Stoppen…” he whispered to his partner. But Italy didn’t stop, and instead seemed to only persist. Germany knew exactly what it was he wanted and knew exactly what it was he was hinting at. But as always, Germany didn’t want to share his feelings with anyone. He stood steadfast and stubborn, his jaw set like steel.  
Seeing his partner wasn’t going to say anything, Italy quickly blurted out,  
“Ludwig has-a-the separation anxiety too!” Immediately the larger countries cheeks pinkened as he looked to his partner in horror.  
“Feliciano!”  
“Ludwig, it’ll-a-help-a them!” Italy insisted. “It’ll-a-help-a them to know someone else is going through the same-a-thing as them!”   
Germany saw his sweet boyfriends face. And he saw the concern he had for the twins written all over it. Germany agreed that it was difficult to watch. Although it seemed…as if the countries who were considered the largest and the strongest were the ones that were suffering from the aftermath of this mess the most. Perhaps because…they were shown that their strength and size meant absolutely nothing…if the ones they loved were taken from them.  
When Germany lifted his head and looked up at the group, he found everyone staring at him expectantly. He stiffened. It was not a comfortable subject to discuss. But…when he looked to the two twins…he thought…that anything he could do to help them would be worth any brief personal discomfort. And so, standing up tall and as ridged as always, he cleared his throat.  
“Ja,” he admitted. “I’ve been experiencink a smiliar panic to vhat Amerika ‘as displayed ‘ere today. Luckily for me, I ‘ave no one to hold me down, unt I am not injured, so…I can follow Italy anytime he attempts to leave my sight.”   
And simply talking about it seemed to make Germany a little bit anxious. McDonalds bag in one hand, he reached out the other, grabbing onto Italy’s wrist with more force than was necessary.   
Italy smiled at the group.   
“It’s-a-only natural considering what we’ve-a-all been through.” He said. “I say, there’s-a-nothing wrong with being afraid for a little while, ve. If we-a-get it all out, we’ll-a-heal faster.”   
America sat up while they were all talking, and for a while he was silent. But then, he held out a hand.  
“Hit me with a burger dudes…” he said. Italy smiled. Grabbing the bag out of Germany’s hand, he hurried over to the meat loving twin. As he did, he pulled away from Germany briefly. And now that it had been called to people’s attention, it was easy to see how nervous the larger country became in simply having Italy move a few feet away. All the same, he stood still, and was as stoic as always, despite widened blue eyes and clammy skin. 

Prussia looked over to his brother. Italy was tending to the twins and was busy setting things up for them on a table next to the bed. Seeing as he wouldn't be done for a few minutes Prussia decided to leave Matthew's side and check on his brother. He walked over standing in front of Germany.  
"Calm down West. Thingz are betterz now. Zoon we can all go home and you can focus on fixing the living roomz since you broke it to hell. Italy can help you with the designing. You bashed in that one wall. Maybe Italy can paint it."

Canada looked at his brother who seemed at least a little more like his old self when he asked for the hamburgers. Canada slowly sat up with his twin watching as Italy sat the food out.  
"I'm sorry Alfred. I didn't mean to scare you. Eh. I just wanted to go find Estonia. He and Lithuania were there that night, and I thought they would know more about what happened. I was only thinking about finding him. I didn't think I would scare you so bad. Arthur went to go get Estonia, so I'll just have to wait until then."   
He lay back on the bed at stared at the fast food. He had said he would eat one of the burgers, but he wished there had been pancakes and maple syrup. He stared at his hamburger in a forlorn way. He really didn't feel like eating. France had reached across America and gently placed his hand on Matthew's head.  
"Mon petit. You need to eat as well. I know dyour brothars cuisine is lacking, but you can blame that on Angleterre."   
At least that got the smaller twin to snort as he tried to stifle the laughter that bubbled up inside of him as France insulted his twin and his father's food tastes.  
"C'est bien beau papa." (It's fine papa.)  
Matthew was smiling again as he looked over at America. He was still anxious and his stomach felt like it were tied in knots over the things that had been revealed to him, but they were done. He couldn't change them, and right now he had no clue what had actually happened at Russia's those forty something years ago. Until someone was able to give him some answers he was just going to have to keep himself positive. If for nothing more than to keep Alfred from panicking about the situation. Matthew reached out towards his hamburger and picked it up off of the table opening the yellow wrapper.

“Hey!” America cried at France’s crack at his food. “My food is waaay better than Arthur’s! And considering he fed me that shit growing up, my food can be considered five stars!” He argued. And then he immediately shoved his favorite fast food burger into his mouth, and as soon as he did, he turned to face France and proceeded to try and lecture him once more.  
“Hmhmm bhmh murh mm brhm mrmm!” And just like that he seemed as if he were back to normal again. But…after his most recent display, Germany knew better. He was ok with Matthew by his side, but he imagined that if someone tried to take his twin from him again, they would just be repeating the situation from earlier.   
Russia had planted a seed. A seed of fear inside the once fearless country. And America, having never been afraid of much of anything before…had no idea how to handle it.   
Zee damage he caused goes far beyond America’s vounds… he thought in dismay. And Germany had to wonder if those hidden, internal injuries America had would ever heal. Germany wondered…because he carried so many internal wounds within himself that had never healed, that it made him into the man he currently was.   
Italy had been working at those scars for over a hundred years. Some…still hadn’t healed. And he knew…some never would.   
He prayed that wasn’t the case with America. Germany didn’t like to see any other country suffer in the ways he once had.   
He can heal it vith time, Ludwig convinced himself. He’s not like me… 

They were left in piece for a few minutes before the voices of two very agonized countries could be heard coming up the hallway.  
"Ow! Why are you doing this!" Came the high pitched voice of Estonia.  
"D'really! Its not such a bad thing! We promise!" Came Lithuania.  
"Do we really need to go in there right now? America is resting, right?" Estonia came into view first being shoved into the room. He was hunched over as Britain came into view next. A fierce look on the British gentleman's face. Britain held onto Estonia's ear lobe firmly and painfully dragged him like were a child. Then Lithuania came trailing behind. His ear also grasped in Britain's second hand. If it were different circumstances Canada would have laughed at the sight. He could remember a time when Britain had done that same move on America.

"Twas the panicking! Tis no need for panicking!" Estonia cried. Estonia's eyes bugged as he laid eyes on all of the stronger nations in the room, "Ha...ha...." He laughed nervously as Britain dragged both nations over and deposited them at the foot of America and Canada's bed.  
Britain crossed his arms standing just behind the two weaker nations. He tapped his foot on the floor his thick eyebrows lowering, "Spill it! Tell them what you told me!"

Lithuania looked back at Britain, "Dwe already told you! I-I... do we have to here..." He looked around nervously at all the super powers and trembled in place a bit as everyone in the room stared back at him with a fierce intensity and some with anger. Lithuania swallowed as he turned back to face Canada, "I-it really is funny story."  
Canada's face soured, "I am not laughing."  
Estonia shook his hands nervously, "No. No. H-he didn't mean it like that. H-he means that night is not what you think! Y-you were unconscious, yes. You wound up in bed with Russia, yes. B-but you misunderstand how you got there."  
Lithuania moved nervously at the foot of the bed, "I-I'm not surprised you do not remember.... All the drugs he put in your dinner was enough to ki-kill somebody."  
Canada's eyes widened, "H-he DRUGGED ME!?"  
Estonia reached out smacking Lithuania on the back of the head, "Y-yes, but nothing happened! Let us explain whole story."

“He did what to my little bro?” America demanded suddenly. Slowly, he put down his cheeseburger. Then, carefully, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Ignoring he instructions given to him by the nurses for God’s knows how many times that day, he got back up and onto his feet. He staggered over to the two countries, his body objecting with each step. He really didn’t care. Reaching the two, he grabbed each of them by their shirt collars, one in each hand. Glaring at them, his usual rage seeming to come back to life all over again, he barked.  
“You better have a really fucking good reason for not stopping Russia as he dragged my little bro into some bedroom after you watched him be drugged!”

Lithunia and Estonia's eyes bugged as America got up out of bed and came over grabbing on to them.  
"Dwe. Dwe. Couldn't d-do much of anything.... W-we were Russia's subordinates." Estonia said in an ashamed voice. Estonia's eyes never met with America's as he spoke.  
Lithuania was quick to jump back in to the conversation as Estonia's words died off, "Bu-but we w-were with them most of de time. N-nothing happened like that! Russia did not do anything like that. I-I was the one w-who took of Canada's clothes."  
"Oh mon dieu!" Canada cried from the bed, "I am not papa! How many people have seen me naked!?" His face flushed red as he gaped at the two trembling nations.  
Estonia's eyes stayed glued to America, and he quickly jabbed Lithuania in the ribs, "Y-you idiot! You said that in the worst possible way!"  
"A-ah!" Lithuania cried raising his hands in front of his face protectively, "I-I didn't mean anything like that!! H-he got sick! Ah! The drugs made him sick! I was just trying to help!"  
Estonia quickly jumped back into the conversation once more, "Canada was there on peace mission. He was visiting us for short time and staying overnight. Lithuania and I-I were in the kitchen when Russia came in. H-he laced Canada's food a-and served it to him. Canada fell unconscious at dinner table. He was o-out like light. Ru-Russia took him, and he just tied him up t-to chair in guest room. W-we stayed with them. We asked Russia what he was doing, a-and he said he drugged Canada t-to get information on you, Ameica.... H-he hadn't been able to get any information from Canada while he w-was normal, so he gave him the drugs. I-it worked. C-Canada w-was s-so s-so influenced he started to t-talk. Ru-Russia g-got information that way. Tha-that was all, bu-but Russia went to sleep in bed a-and C-canada was still tied up. W-we stayed wi-with him, a-and he threw u-up in middle of night."

Lithuania looked passed America and to Canada, "Y-you woke up. W-we untied you. Y-you were me-mess. I-I took your clothes off. W-we had trouble finding clothes to fit you. We gave you blanket. We only left for few minutes, b-but you were confused. Y-you wondered over to b-bed. Y-you lay down on bed with Russia, but that was it. You were unconscious again almost as soon as you lay down. Ru-russia demanded photo to use o-on America. H-he thought would be good demoralization. W-we thought photo was destroyed. W-we thought telling you would cause you more ha-harm than good."

"Y-you would have had to keep truth by yourself. W-we knew i-if we told you wh-what really happened you wou-would have no one to turn to, so we kept quiet about it. Y-you weren't hurt, a-and you would heal from poisoning." Estonia looked at Canada sadly. It may not have been the right answer, but the two nations had truly meant no harm.

"We knew if America fo-found out co-cold war would be-become hot war ve-very quickly. Y-you kept quiet about Cuba incident, and we knew yo-you would not be able to tell your brother about Ru-russia drugging you either. Sorry. W-we th-thought it would never come to light." Lithuania looked down at the floor sadly. He was obviously regretful things had happened like this.

America sighed. He was so relieved that his brother hadn’t been hurt, that he hardly cared about anything else he’d heard. He didn’t care who’d done what or why or when. He didn’t even really care that it had all been done just because Russia wanted to use his brother to upset him.   
All of it was finally over. And there was nothing left to get so worked up about.  
With another sigh, his adrenaline left his body. And when he released the two smaller countries, he collapsed to his knees on the floor in front of them, simply unable to keep his own weight up with his injuries and without the adrenaline pushing him.   
“Alfred!” Britain cried as he ran to his side.  
Alfred groaned, “Oh thank God…” he mumbled. “Thank God thank God.” He lifted his hands and rubbed his face, then slid them up and through his hair. All of a sudden, he looked exhausted…and much older than his youthful appearance ever allowed before. Reaching out two shaking hands, he grabbed a hold of Britain.  
“Help me back to bed…” he said. “I’m so tired…I can’t take this shit anymore…”

Matthew had crawled to the end of the bed. Lying on his stomach he reached down and put his hand on his brother's head. He knew he would have to talk to Lithuania and Estonia later, but at the moment he simply wanted to bask in the glory of a simple mistake that had gone horribly wrong. Everything was going to get back to normal. As he placed his hand on Alfred's golden locks Britain reached up and gently placed his hand on his arm giving him a reassuring squeeze. Matthew smiled down at his family,  
"Hey Alfred...let's go on vacation..." He tugged his brother's hair thoink for a moment, "Some place warm." Matthew felt warm arms wrap around his chest and he relaxed in his boyfriends arms. The last few weeks had been horrendously nerve-wracking and he was more than happy to put it behind him.  
Britain gently pulled America's arms over his shoulder and helped lift him up off the floor.  
"I have been telling you to rest. You need to sit in bed, drink a cup of my tea, and unwind your nerves. Now we know the truth and we can start moving on. I'm so glad you boy's are ok. I swear if you two pull one more stunt I will have a stroke. Just stay in bed and relax. I can get a wheelchair later and Prussia and I can take you and your brother outside."

Finally, finally, it seemed that America’s protective big brother switch had been flipped into the ‘off’ position. He didn’t argue and he didn’t fight. For once in his life, he just let Britain do what he wanted. Helped into bed, Alfred laid down next to his brother. And even though it was the middle of the day, with the stress finally lifted from him, he fell asleep in a heartbeat.  
Britain sighed. Reaching out, he brushed his bangs aside. Then turning to Matthew he said, “I swear you kids will be the death of me.” 

 

Chapter 27  
Back to Normal

Eventually, and inevitably, everyone became healed of their injures. The northern twins were released in another few days, and after that, everyone went home. Britain had to get back to work eventually, as did France, and the two returned to their own countries. Germany, Italy, and Prussia all headed back to Germany’s house, where Ludwig looked after his brother until his slower healing injuries disappeared.   
Still suffering from separation anxiety, he never let Italy leave his sight. But…Italy didn’t mind. As with all things, Feliciano spent his time easing Germany’s frayed nerves, and smoothing over the ruffled feathers the ordeal had caused for him.  
America and Canada returned back home as well. Only things for them were a bit more difficult than they were for Germany and Italy. They didn’t live together for one, and their bosses wanted them to come back to work once they were healed. This proved difficult considering Alfred didn’t want to leave Matthew’s side. Having gone home to his house, he hadn’t yet left. And after overstaying his welcome, he dragged poor Matthew home with him to America. They started attending one another’s business meetings…which none of the bosses liked. And it started to become problematic.   
Finally, however, several months later, all the countries were let off for summer vacation. Considering all they’d been through, they all wanted to get together once more, just to have fun and blow off some stress from work.   
America had a wonderful idea for a vacation location, and immediately suggested Puerto Vallarta, a beach resort located in Mexico. Apparently he had some ‘special surprise’ for everyone once they arrived.   
((I’m going with a different time line for our RP than the story I’m currently writing. Because the way it’s going right now, everyone would have found out in 2002. So for our story, I’ll just have it be a big secret from everyone.))  
And so, for the entire plane ride over, while Canada was going “What is it? Tell me? Tell me?” America was shaking his head going, “Hmmm….nope. Nah. Nuh-uh!” Until finally they landed.   
After collecting their baggage, the twins headed out into a taxi and made their way to the hotel they’d all be sharing. They were all scheduled to meet at the front entrance, before changing clothes and heading down to the beach to see whatever America’s big surprise was.   
Coming up to the entranceway to the hotel, America immediately spotted Germany, Italy and Prussia, who were already there and as punctual as always. Prussia, of course, ran right over to his boyfriend, throwing his arms around him in an embrace. And that left America to take in the sight of Germany and Italy.   
Both were dressed in vacation outfits, clearly picked out by Feliciano. Germany was standing tall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his chin firm and level with the ground as his blue eyes gazed out at the ocean just over the rise. He was as stoic as always but…looked a little strange in a bright green shirt with palm trees covering it, and Bermuda shorts. Alfred wasn’t used to seeing him out of uniform. And man…his skin looked stark-white in the tropical sun.  
Italy on the other hand, was so adorable, he could have been mistaken for a girl. Wearing a similar shirt to Germany’s but his being pink, and his shorts being much tighter than his partners, it was no wonder he hadn’t been picked up by some strange tourist yet. Especially with his cute little hat on.  
Then again, in looking at how intimidating Germany was…Alfred no longer wondered why Italy hadn’t been approached. The dude looked like a lion ready to pounce on anyone who dared even glance his partner’s way. He was clearly on alert for predators, so perhaps…someone had been foolish enough to try after all.   
Feliciano waved when he saw the twins arrive.  
“Ciao!” he greeted, whilst still gripping Germany’s hand. “We-a-had-a-great-a-planeride! And-a-therewas-a-this-one-a-part where we-a-hitsometurbulance! And Germania got-a-sick and we-a-hadtogototherestroom! But-a-hewasasobigIcouldn’tfitinside withhim-a-and and-an-and-!” But Italy was talking so quickly at that point that America simply couldn’t keep up. Laughing, he raised his hands to defend himself from the barrage of words.  
“Ok dude! You’re excited, I get it!”   
But it was then that another cab pulled up to the curb. And when it did, America turned to face it, his heart beating just a little bit quicker. He was hoping it was his parents. Ever since the Russia incident, he appreciated them a lot more than he used to. Actually…I appreciate everyone a lot more than I used to… he thought truthfully. As horrific as the ordeal was, it seemed to have brought all of the countries closer together. After surviving such a nightmare, it was no wonder. It really illustrated how much they needed one another. And ever since Russia’s, America couldn’t help but to remember all the other times his dad’s had been there for him, and all the things they’d done to help him over his two hundred year history.   
And so, when he saw Britain and France getting out of the car, already bickering and fighting as usual, a wide smile spread over his face.   
“Mom!” He cried. And just like that, he was running toward Britain, looking a lot like a freight train that could possibly run over the smaller European nation. 

“Gyahh!” Britain cried as he turned and saw his older son barreling towards him. America had done this more than once during his lifetime, but it had been much easier when America had been a child. In fact when the nation had been little it had been endearing. Britain had told America on more than one occasion that he was now too big to do this. Unfortunately, America was such a kid at heart. In moments of excitement like this he could forget that he was a superpower and hit like a brick house.   
Not that Britain minded America’s power hugs or that the tackling hurt him. The situation was simply humiliating to the English gentleman. Britain raised his hands into the air for some type of defense against his oncoming son.  
“America! Wait! S-Stop!”   
The protest fell on deaf ears as it always had. America slammed into his shorter father and wrapped his arms under Britain’s outstretched arms and around Britain’s chest. Britain was a little less than enthusiastic to receive the fierce hug. The red in Britain’s cheeks soon enveloped his entire face as America stood up straight and leaned back. The action caused Britain’s feet to leave the ground. Britain kicked his feet in the air as his eyes blanched. Unable to reach the ground Britain was forced to endure while his son squeezed him.   
“Put me down! America! This is highly undignified!”  
Despite his protests Britain was glad to see his son acting like his old self. After the horrible time they had in Russia he had never wanted to leave his sons. It was an impossible dream, and he had been forced to leave both of his sons to go home and work. He had been forced to work continually over the past few months to make up for lost time. This was the first time he’d actually seen America or Canada since they had all left Estonia. He was glad to see both of his sons smiling, and he was glad to see the spark back in America’s eyes.   
All of the things that had been done to both of his sons in Russia had haunted him over the past few months. He’d had plenty of nightmares about the states in which he’d found America and Canada, and he had played off more than one late night call as accidental when he had wanted to casually check in on his sons. He was just glad to see America and Canada back in their normal spirits. Despite all his protests to the current situation he reached out wrapping his arms around America’s neck and gave his son a firm, loving squeeze. The father, son moment was brief. America soon began swinging Britain from side to side like he was a stuffed animal, and a vein popped to life in Britain’s head.  
“That is quite enough of your tomfoolery! Put me down this instant!” Britain demanded.  
Canada came walking over with Prussia’s arm over his shoulder. He smiled at Britain who was busy with America. Then he moved to France.  
“Bonjour Papa.”  
France came forward enveloping both Canada and Prussia.  
“Bonjour mon petit Matthieu et Gilbert! C'est bon de vous voir. (Hello my little Matthew and Gilbert. It is good to see you.)” Then he flew around the two and went to hug Italy.   
Canada stayed back while Britain tried to get free of America’s steel arms. A smile tugged at his lips as he leaned against Prussia’s side enjoying the warm embrace.  
“Alfred. You promised to tell me what this surprise was!” Canada kept his eyes on his brother. After having this ‘surprise’ dangled over his head since before they had left his brother’s home, Canada was growing impatient to know what his brother was so excited to tell everyone. That’s when Matthew felt a strange tickle in his sinuses. He barely had time to raise his hands to his face and cover his mouth before he coughed into his hand. He felt another odd sensation that lead to a sniffle, but after a moment it passed. Prussia was immediately asking if he was ok, and Matthew waved off his worried boyfriend.  
“It’s nothing. I just got something caught in my throat.” Matthew looked back at his brother, “Come on. What’s the surprise, Alfred!!”

France, running toward Italy, was a horrible idea. Germany was clearly still on sentinel mode, and as soon as he saw the perverted country racing toward his lover, arms outstretched, he reacted instinctually. Reaching out, before France ever reached his target, his larger German hand fell down on the French man’s face. Pressing back against him, all France could do was stretch his arms outward, swinging them wildly toward his target who was now only inches away. Germany glowered.  
“You’re not to touch mein Italy durink dis entire trip! Do you hear me?” He demanded. And Italy, although true that he was indeed trying to loosen Germany up a bit since the Russia incident, still absolutely loved it when he acted possessive of him.   
“Ve!” He cried with delight, both hands flying to his cheeks.   
“Non!” France objected in dismay. “He’s so cute! I simply must touch him!” Germany’s glower grew even stonier, his blue eyes cold. Slowly, he started to increase his grip.  
“I vill crush your face!”  
“Aieee!” France cried. 

But over by the cab, away from the commotion, America finally released Britain, not wanting to permanently injure him, just maybe…rough him up a bit. Grinning from ear to ear, he slapped the smaller nation across the back.  
“Good to see ya mom!” And then, hearing Canada’s question, his grin only grew.  
“I told you! The surprise is at the beach! We should all get changed into our swim trunks and head down there so we can all swim together! We need to get some alcohol into Ludwig too, so he loosens up! Look at him, he’s wound up tighter than a steel drum!”   
Gesturing, everyone looked over to find Germany going a little bit overboard on poor France who’d been forced to his knees by the pressure being exhibited on his face. The fun over, Italy was now hanging on Germany’s arm, trying to get him to release his iron grip.  
“Ludwig! It’s-a-ok! It’s-a-ok now. He just-a-wanted to say hello,” he explained. The chiseled nation hesitated, but after looking to his partner’s expression…he finally let France’s face go.   
“Aiee! My beautiful face!” And indeed, there was now a large, red, handprint covering the entirety of France’s features. 

Britain walked over to his brother. A grin on his face.  
"Serves you right."  
He said to the sobbing nation who was over dramatically clinging to his face, "Come along chap. Let's go get changed so we can see what this surprise is." He grabbed France by the back of his shirt and started to drag him off towards the hotel. A moment later Canada grabbed Prussia's hand and started to drag him off towards the hotel as well. As they started up in the elevator another cough hit him, and this time Prussia gave him a look of concern. Once more the Northern twin blew off Prussia's look and instead stared at his brother.  
"Did you get a new boat?" He took a stab at what the surprise could be.  
“Nope! It’s not a boat!” America cried, clearly pleased about his game of ‘guess what.’  
Seeing as his boyfriend had abandoned him Prussia turned to his own brother and Italy. He reached out throwing his arm around Italy. Grasping his shoulder he hugged him close so he could speak to him. Perhaps the only nation in the world Germany wouldn't kill for doing such a thing. It wasn't odd for Prussia to do such a thing since they'd all lived together for so long.  
"Italy when we get down to the beach you need to start a plan to pull ztick out of mud immediately. West looks like he iz going to hav 'unt aneurism." Prussia took his hand off of Italy's shoulder and reached up grabbing onto Germany's shoulder, "Relax. Iz vacation. We finally have vacation!" Prussia's smile beamed as he said the words, "No boring business meetings. Nobody to tell you about deadlines. Just fun!"

“Si!” Italy agreed, to all that Prussia had said. Looking over to Germany, his heart warmed. He knew he could get him to loosen up. A few minutes in their hotel room would be enough. “Germania, when-a-we get to the beach, will you come-a-swimming with me?”  
Ludwig, turning his attention toward Italy, looked to his adorable face. He could never say no to him, not matter what it was he was requesting.  
“Ja,” he agreed. “If you go svimmink, I’ll have to come to make sure you don’t drown…” Feliciano giggled. 

Everyone divided up into their own rooms once off the elevator. Changing in the bathrooms and in the privacy of their hotel spaces, it took a few minutes for everyone to get ready. Some took more time than others.   
America of course was waiting in the hallway impatiently, being one of the first out. Canada and Prussia come out next. Then, France and Britain…who of course had an entire beach bag, full of things like sun tan lotion, water, bug spray, towels, and even baggies full of crackers “for the boys,” Britain claimed.   
Then everyone was waiting on Germany and Italy, who were oddly, the last ones out. Germany was always prompt, so it was strange for them to be last. But of course, Prussia knew what was going on, since he’d given Italy a mission. As such, everyone was made to wait another ten minutes or so. But then, finally, the pair emerged, changed and appearing ready to go. Italy was carrying some floaties with him, while Germany had the towels. Germany appeared…a lot less stressed then he was before, a great color in his face.   
“Ok, is everyvone ready to go?” He asked the group.

Canada was happily wrapped up in Prussia’s arms. The ex-nation was standing behind his boyfriend and had his chin resting on Matthew’s shoulder when Germany and Italy came out into the hallway. Prussia smiled brightly at them, but he didn’t say anything.  
Britain looked to his older son.  
“Lead the way America. Let’s see what this surprise of yours is. I swear if it is some new superhero you’ve created I do not want any part of it.”  
Canada laughed at the idea of a new American super hero.  
“I think it’s something else.” He said as they climbed back onto the elevator, “I just can’t think of it.” He looked over at his brother who was grinning from ear to ear. He had already guessed everything. What else could it be? As the elevator lowered to the bottom floor and everyone slowly climbed off the gears in Matthew’s head were still turning.  
“Maybe a new water gun? Hey Alfred. We buried mom in sand. Let’s wait for France to drink a bit and then bury him in sand.” The Northern twin smiled at the idea as they walked out of the hotel and onto the sandy beach. Prussia seemed all for burying his friend.  
“I think that is a great idea Matthew! We should bury Francis. Right after unawezome’s zurprize.” Canada looked around the beach. He saw people, but he never saw anything drastically out of place. Anything that just screamed I’m America’s surprise. I’m right here!

America was oddly quiet about the entire thing, which of course wasn’t usually his style. But once they got to the beach, it looked like his cheeks may burst from the strength of his grin. Out in the sun on the tourist beach, the water before them a crystal blue, and with a gentle breeze blowing, the day couldn’t get any more beautiful.   
Stepping forward and past all of his friends, America’s flip-flops moved through the white sands. At first it was hard to tell where he was going, or where he was heading, but then, one of the people in the crowd before him turned around to face them.  
It was a woman. With mocha colored skin, and long, wavy chocolate hair, there was no doubt that she was beautiful and exotic. Wearing a bright green bathing suit and a white cover wrap around her legs, her eyes crinkled in delight when she saw America. They clearly knew one another.   
“Alfred!” She cried. And nearly everyone in the group gaped when she started to run to him. They would have been equally shocked when Alfred opened his arms to her to receive her. Then they came together in a happy embrace American lifting her up and spinning her around just once. Then, after putting her back down on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned in for a kiss.   
After a quick greeting, he pulled back, then faced his shocked family. And in looking at their faces, he had to laugh out loud.   
“Haha! Look at all of you dudes! Haha! Britain especially!” Still laughing, be pointed a finger at his loved ones.  
“Alfred! Dat’s rude!” The woman said to him. “Dis es jour family! Introduce me properly, and be nice!” Still laughing, but starting to calm down some, he looked from the woman in his arms and back to his family.  
“Ah, ok. I guess I’ll tease them later.” Arm around her, America stepped forward with his apparent girlfriend. “Guys, this is my surprise. This is Mexico, her human name’s Maria. We’ve been dating since 1994.”

Britain was so shocked with the revelation that he dropped his beach bag onto the sand, spilling out the water bottles and sun tan lotion. His mouth hung open.  
Matthew stared from Prussia's arms. He had met Mexico before but the occasions had been brief and far apart. He had never suspected this kind of secret from his brother. It seemed amazing that Alfred could keep a secret for that long.  
That's when Britain took a step forward, "1-1-19-19-1994!? Since 1994!? How the bollucks-!"  
France ran by his stuttering brother and went to stand in front of Mexica, "Hon, Hon, Hon! 'ello." He reached out taking Mexico's hand in his own and then raised it to his lips to kiss the back of her hand.  
Matthew came forward then looked at his brother, "And you were mad I kept my relationship with Gilbert from you." He huffed looking away from his brother.  
"Way to go unawezome!" Prussia reached over Matthew playfully punching America in the shoulder, "Who da thunk you'z could getz zuch a pretty lady!"

America smiled widely and brightly, but also knew, of course, that at least some of his family members had been insulted by the very long, drawn out secret he’d kept.   
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “We uh…it was kinda rough at first, so we didn’t want anyone knowing. Then there was this huge debacle with Cuba and he uh…kinda got crazy jealous and wanted to kill us. And then uh…well September Eleventh happened and…it just never seemed like the right time,” he explained. “But, here we are!”   
Turning to France, he gave the man a firm slap across his back. “Told ya I wasn’t missing out! Hahaha!”   
“Es my fault too,” Maria said. “I ask him not to tell. I was having a lot of problems in my country. And uh…we took a break for a while en da beginning of de new century.” America shrugged, trying to brush it off. Clearly the couple had their fair share of problems, which had probably been a major reason he hadn’t told anyone.  
“Besides…I knew mom would act like that!” Alfred said, gesturing to Britain. “Close your mouth! Yes! I am capable of human compassion!”   
But before Britain could really respond, France’s face rose up between the two from behind. Leaning in, and putting an arm around each of them, he grinned in his usual perverted manner.  
“I knew it!” He said. “I knew you ‘ad a secret sex life! I knew there was no way you were as straight a shootair as you were pretending! Oui! Mon cheri! You two do nasty things togethair, oui? Tell me! Tell me all about it!”   
America rolled his eyes, then quickly shrugged out from underneath France’s arm. Quickly he shoved the other nation away.  
“And I knew that France would act like that!”

Canada couldn't help but laugh, but before the laugh was over it transformed into a fit of coughing that seemed unnatural for a healthy country. Seeing as this had happened once in the presence of the others, but also when the two had been alone in their hotel room Prussia was becoming a bit more concerned for his boyfriend. The albino shot a disgruntled look at his boyfriend and was about to ask if he were ok, but once again Canada waved him off as he wiped at his nose.  
Prussia's disgruntled look turned into a frown, "Zu need to stop doing, zhat."  
Canada finally stopped coughing and stepped back from his brother and looked at his boyfriend, "I told you I am fine. Something is in my throat."  
Prussia was about to make a rebuttal, but he was suddenly shoved aside by a raging Englishman. Prussia went careening into Canada and before either knew what had happened Prussia was lying on top of Canada in the sand.

Britain waved an unhappy finger in his son's face, "Y-y-you!" He fumed as he continued to wave that unhappy lecturing finger, "Didn't you see how mad I was at your brother for keeping secrets! H-he had a legitimate reason too! Y-you have been hiding this for 18 years!! What is wrong with you boys?" Then in another second Britain was ranting.  
Prussia hadn't moved from his spot where he was keeping Canada pinned against the white sand, for once he wasn't trying to be dirty about the positions they had found themselves in either. It was just that since he was so close to his boyfriend he had looked into Matthew's eyes and noticed that they were a bit red and puffy. He also noticed a red hue in Canada's cheeks. He thought it may have been a blush from embarrassment, but Canada didn't look embarrassed he looked like he was coming down with something. Prussia leaned down kissing his boyfriend on his forehead. He was a bit relieved that Matthew didn't feel warm in anyway, so when he pulled back he simply asked again.  
"Are you zure your ok?"  
Canada smiled up at his boyfriend, "I promise. I'm OK."  
With a heavy sigh Prussia slowly stood up and then helped Canada to his feet as well. He held onto his boyfriend's hand. Silently Canada was starting to get a little worried too. His energy was fading and he felt an uncalled for headache coming on. Pushing those things aside he smiled back at his brother, "I'm happy for you, Al."

America, as protective as he had been over his brother, normally would have noticed his coughing, and his oncoming cold immediately. In fact, with all that had happened between them, America would have probably fussed over-excessively and it would have inflamed the fear that he’d developed over him ever since the Russian incident.   
But with his hands full with Mexico, and now France and Britain, he hadn’t the time. At the moment, he was trying to fend off Arthur, who truly appeared hurt by his well kept secret.  
“No good reason?” Alfred cried. “I just told you! We had to keep it a secret so that Cuba wouldn’t find out about us! He was crazy in the nineties! Well…he kinda found out anyway. And we were right about keeping it a secret because he tried to fucking kill both of us! And by the time all that settled down we had September Eleventh. And we...uh…kinda took a break after that…”  
And suddenly, Alfred was looking uncomfortable. September Eleventh was one of those touchy subjects he never spoke about to begin with, but now it seemed like it was coupled together with some sort of break-up between him and Mexico.   
“So if it makes you feel any better, we only got back together recently,” he said.   
But even as he was explaining everything to Britain, France was busy. As always, his hands and eyes wandered. Only a second of being unsupervised led his grubby hands toward Maria’s plump rump. There was a quick unsolicited squeeze, a shriek from America’s girlfriend, and then a harsh, violent CRACK as America’s fist came down on top of his father’s head.  
“I told you dude…I warned you. If you touch her again, you’ll be unconscious for the rest of this vacation.”

"Oh America. You can't expect much more from him. He's been like that since he was born. He did have those wonder years during the musketeer era-"  
"'ey!" France cried from his place in the sand, "T'at is not rig't! I was only saying 'ello!"  
Rolling his eyes up towards the sky Britain moved away from America. He went to Mexico a genuine smile on his face. Despite all the lecturing he was happy his son had found such a thing as love. He was happy for both of his son's actually. They had both been dealt horrid hands lately, and they had both pulled through. He was proud of them.  
Still Alfred needed to be taught a lesson about keeping secrets. The island nation reached out waiting for Mexico to reach out her hand. When she did Arthur took her hand in his own and gently patted it. He smiled at the younger nation.  
"I will say, love. I never imagined any woman would be able to stand my son's outlandish imagination or his-" Britain paused as he thought of what to say next. He shot America a distasteful look as he finally settled on the words, " ...youthful spirit." Still holding her hand, Britain gently started to lead Mexico away from America. He smiled at America's girlfriend as he walked away. He shot a look back over his shoulder as they moved away. A look that silently said 'I will show you to keep secrets'. Then he turned back to Mexico with a smile on his face,  
"Let us set up the beach chairs. I have so many fun stories about Alfred I can tell you. Like when he was a wee lad! He used to be the cutest little lad. He had a lot of strange ideas though. In fact once he took his brother out into the woods behind our home and got horribly lost. That's not the whole story though. I'll tell you from the beginning."  
Canada and Prussia had come over to America. Canada watched their father walk away with Mexico.  
"I'm glad he never did that with Prussia."   
Prussia snickered.  
"Zhat may not be az true as du think, Birdie." Matthew whirled around on Prussia. His eyes wide.  
"E-eh. Wh-when did Britain talk to you?" Prussia snickered.  
"Du no need to worry. Iz waz a fun conversation. I never knew you cried when America stole d'our polar bear."  
Matthew's cheeks caught fire at those memories. They were embarrassing, but even so they were nostalgic. He assumed it was a parent’s right to share such humiliating stories, but he didn't have to like it. Cheeks burning he turned back to his twin. A smile on his face.  
"Maybe you should have waited on telling those two." Canada suddenly noticed that France had vanished. He blinked and then looked around for his first father, "Papa?" Then he found France sneaking back towards Mexico and Britain who were still talking. "Papa! Arrête ça! (stop that!)  
A grin suddenly spread over Prussia's face. He moved away from the twins waving as he ran.  
"I gotz thiz, unawesome!"   
A few minutes later he was tackling France and attempting to pin him to the sand and bury him. Unfortunately France was putting up a fight and soon the two were wrestling, "W-west! Hilfe! (Help)" Prussia yelled as he picked up a hand full of sand and put it in France's hair.  
Canada laughed.  
"Alfred. Let's help Prussia, eh? Then you can do what you want without worrying about papa for the rest of the day."

Oh, and America agreed whole heartedly. A large, uncontrolled grin overtook his face at the idea.  
“Awesome!” He wasted no time racing forward. With his brother at his side, and Prussia, who’d become a rather great friend, the three teamed up on poor France. “I’ve got em! You guys bury! Quick!” And holding a thrashing French man down with his strong hands, quickly Canada and Prussia got to work tossing sand on top of Francis.  
“Aie! It’s in my eye! You got la sand in my eye!”   
“Serves you right for groping my girlfriend!” But of course, it was all in good natured fun.  
Out by the beach blankets, Maria was helping Arthur set up the umbrellas. She loved hearing embarrassing stories about Alfred when he was young. What girlfriend didn’t?   
“But Britain,” she said, interrupting him. “What really ‘as changed at all? Everything jou describe esounds exactly like Alfred as an adult.” And of course, it was then that Britain and Mexico looked over to see what all the commotion was. And what they found was a group of rambunctious boys, burying their father in the sand. Maria giggled.  
“Jou see? He’s estill nothing but a boy.” She looked to her boyfriend’s father, her dark eyes shining. “Es nice of jou to warn me, but I’m afraid I already know how grotesquely immature he es.” All the same, despite what sounded like it could have been insults, it was clear to see that this boyishness Mexico described was actually one of the many reasons she loved America to begin with. 

Britain watched Mexico stare off at America. He was happy for his son, and he was glad that Mexico was able to appreciate Alfred for all that he was. Any father was glad to see his children happy, and when he saw his brother buried he smirked.   
"Make sure he's good and buried kids!"  
Prussia was sticking a twig on the top of the mound that was France.  
"Ze awezome me haz conquered zu." Matthew was laughing beside Prussia when he broke out coughing once more. This time snot ran from his nose, and he hopped up to go grab a tissue from his bag.  
He ran to where Britain and Mexico were and started looking through his bag for a tissue. Just as he managed to find one and wiped his nose he sneezed again. What was once a simple sneeze was quickly becoming more and more of a cold.   
It was Britain who took notice since Matthew was standing beside him. He walked over to the younger twin and looked him over.  
"You look a bit under the weather. Are you all right?"  
Matthew nodded his head as he sneezed once more.  
"Y-yeah. I am ok." Matthew tried to wave off his father, but Britain was harder to get rid of. All the events of the past few months had caused Britain to be attentive to his sons. Britain marched over to his son and grabbed him by his shoulder. Then he stared into Matthew's blood shot eyes.  
"You don't look all right. Matthew, you look like your catching a cold." Britain raised his hand up and placed it on his younger son's head, "You feel warm. Maybe you sould sit down."  
Matthew was starting to feel tired and his eyes were starting to water and his nose was starting to run. He wanted to disagree with Britain, but sleeping in a beach chair was sounding wonderful. With a silent nod he headed for the beach chair with Britain following him all the way.

And of course, now, with France out of the way, and Mexico currently speaking with someone else, America took notice of his brother’s condition immediately. Getting up from his spot in the sand, he marched over to the beach chair where his little brother had lain down.   
“Bro! Are you not feeling so great?” Kneeling in the sand beside him, he leaned over him, looking him over. He indeed looked a little bit pale, and his nose was running. “You shouldn’t be sneezing on a Mexican beach in summer bro.” And then he reached out a hand and gently placed it on his forehead. Canada felt warm, although not alarmingly so. All the same, America didn’t react well.  
“Matt! You’re warm!” Immediately, he reached out, forcing him to sit up. “Come on man! We gotta get you inside into bed! We…we need to get fluids into you! You shouldn’t be out on a beach! Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” His blue eyes filled with worry. “Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you bro? I can if you need me to!”   
Mexico watched the entire scene unfold before her, her dark eyes saddening at America’s overreaction to his little brothers slight cold. She knew perfectly well why he was reacting in such an excessive way, and it hurt her to see. Although Alfred hadn’t told her everything that had happened, in order to not disturb her too greatly, he had told her all of the basics of his ordeal with Russia. She knew about future America, the plot to take over both Canada and America, and Russia’s insane kidnapping spree where he ended up with over four countries in his ice prison.   
She also knew Alfred had been hurt terribly in his attempts to protect and save his little brother, who he’d been convinced would suffer and die under Russia’s hand. He never spoke of it…but Mexico had been there just after the New Year…when he’d suffered endless nightmares, crying out in his sleep in the dead of the cold winter nights. She’d held him in the lifeless hours of the morning, and she’d felt him tremble.  
Maria knew how overprotective he’d become of Matthew. And as unnecessary as his worry and fear was…she knew it was something he simply had to work through. Telling him there was nothing to worry about wouldn’t help. All she could really do was support him. And so, she stepped forward, and offered Matthew a smile.  
“We could all go rest together,” she suggested. 

Matthew raised his Kleenex holding hand to his nose as he sneezed again. Then he raised his finger telling Alfred to wait. After his sneezing ended he turned to his brother.  
"It really just came on all of the sudden, Alfred. I'm sure it's nothing. I don't need to go inside. Look-" Canada pointed to his boyfriend who was jumping up and down on the sand mound that was France. "He's having so much fun. I can't ruin that, and I don't want to. I'll just stay here and rest for a little while. Mexico can you please take my brother and go swimming. You love the beach Alfred. Go swim." He put his hand into the air and waved his brother off, and then he started sneezing once again. Britain sighed pulling his chair up beside his son.  
"I can watch him America. I'll call you if we need you for anything. I wasn't planning on swimming today." Britain said as he sat down in his chair. 

But America didn’t look convinced.   
“Swimming? Dudes! We can’t possibly go swimming! We need to check the news and make sure Canada’s country is ok! Wh…what if something’s happening? Are…are we expecting any hurricanes? Wait…bro…you don’t usually get those, with it being so cold and all in your country. Avalanches maybe? Earthquakes? R…R…Russia’s not…not anywhere near our hemisphere right now, right?”  
And Alfred’s stutter when it came to Russia’s name didn’t get by Britain, Canada or Mexico. The ice country made him clearly nervous in a way he never had before the incident in December. And sometimes, it was hard to known that America’s unshakable confidence had been knocked down a notch.  
He’ll be fine, Mexico told herself. He jus’ needs some more time.   
“Does anyone ‘ave a phone wid internet access?” She asked. “We could look something like that up.” She knew perfectly well that America wouldn’t settle down until they were absolutely certain his brother was ok. 

Canada fished around in his pocket looking for his cell phone.  
"I left my phone in the hotel room. It's in my jacket pocket. I should go get it."  
Britain fished around in his beach bag and handed his phone over to his son.  
"You can use mine."   
Canada accepted the device gratefully and then dialed his own phone number. It was only a moment later when he entered his security code and an automated voice told him that he had 12 new messages. It made his eyes widen, but he pressed the phone to his ear and tried to keep his brother from listening in on the conversation when Matthew realized his boss was frantically leaving him messages. He'd left his phone only thirty minutes ago, and his boss sounded panicked. His boss knew he was on vacation so it had to be important. Plus his boss was asking for Canada to call him back immediately. Canada scooted to the edge of the chair and slowly stood up.  
"I need to make a call. I will be right back."

“W…wait!” America rose to his feet and went to follow his brother, a panicked look coming across his features. Immediately, Mexico was on it. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his waist, halting him.   
“Alfred, don’t!” She said. Leaning in, she placed her lips near his ear in order to speak more softly, so as not to alert his friends to his fragile emotional situation. “Es ok…” she whispered gently. “Jour bruder jus’ went to make a phone call to find out what’s happened. Dat’s all. He’s jus’ a little under de weather. If it was something more serious, it wouldn’t be jus’ a cold. Alright?”   
But even from behind him, she could see how afraid he was, and even though she’d seen him go through this many times since December, it never made it easier on her. She remembered days when Alfred had once been carefree, not a single worry on his mind. A lot of that had changed on September Eleventh, and now…now this.   
Damn jou Russia… she thought woefully. Damn jou for ‘urting my Alfred so deeply…   
America didn’t answer her, but he didn’t go after Canada again either. As worried and over protective as he’d become concerning his brother, it had been several months since his imprisonment at Russia’s, and he was starting to recognize that he would have to figure out how to let Matt go from time to time.  
“Ok…” he said softly. “Ok…it’s just a cold…” he mumbled. Standing up straight, Mexico released him. Then, walking around to his front, she reached out, wrapping both mocha hands around his shoulders. She offered him a warm smile.  
“Shall we distract jou until he returns? Why don’t we go to de snack shack over dere and get jou one of dos enchiladas jou like eso much, si?”   
Alfred looked to Maria. Even through her sweet smile, he saw the concern on her pretty face. He didn’t like to worry her. And it felt like he’d been doing that a lot lately. And so, being brave, and suppressing his urge to race after his brother and attach himself to his side, he nodded.  
“Ok,” he agreed. “Let’s bring Britain back one, with extra spice. Let’s watch him shot flames from his mouth. He can’t handle any type of spice or flavor.”  
Maria giggled glad to see him able to joke around and back into somewhat good spirits. But she knew he’d secretly be worried until Canada returned. Reaching out, she took his hand.   
“Let’s get jour papa a nice spicy treat.” Then the pair started off across the white sands.

Canada walked back towards the hotel leaving his friends and family behind. He was half way back when he dialed his boss. It didn't take a long time for Canada to finally get through to his frantic boss who was panicking. It didn't take long to find out what had caused his cold either. It also became apparent that Alfred was going to have a conniption when he found out what was going on. As such Matthew sat in the lobby until his patient-less boyfriend came to find him. Still wearing his white swim trunks with the Prussian bird on the front the ex nation ran over to Matthew who was sitting in a chair staring off into space. The two conversed for a moment when they started back toward the beach.  
With a heavy sigh Matthew looked at his family. He walked over to the lawn chair and sat down beside Britain and faced his father.  
"Really, I don't want him to worry." Were the first words out of his mouth. It was quite away to start the conversation and immediately caused Britain to turn and face his son. He was obviously prepared for the worst, but his son looked like he was trying to be reassuring.  
"I have to go to an emergency meeting. There was some kind of issue with some trade tariffs and regulations, but it's not that big a deal. I just have to go to the meeting to resolve the issues."  
"I gathered that if it were bad enough to give you the sniffles then you may have to go back. Who are you meeting with?" Matthew's face crinkled up as an uncomfortable look came over his face. It wasn't the worst case scenario.  
"...China.... I think it will be fine. I know Russia is not supposed to be there." Britain frowned at the announcement. He wasn't happy about it, but Canada was right. It could have been far worse.

It was then that America and Mexico arrived with some Mexican treats in their hands. America of course had one for himself, and another for Britain. But when he looked up and saw Matthew, he hurried forward.   
“Matt!” he called. Kicking up sand, and leaving his poor girlfriend behind, he ran the rest of the way to the beach blankets. Reaching his destination, he immediately stood next to his brother. Still holding both snacks he said,  
“What’s the deal yo? Is everyone in Canada ok?” 

Matthew turned to face his brother. He did not want to panic America, but he did have to be honest about what was happening,  
"I don't want you to panic, but I have to go back to my country for a meeting. There's some kind of issue with a trade tariff, and shipping regulations and it's holding up exported goods. It's nothing major. I just have to be there to sign off on some paper work. So I want you to stay here and relax, but I need to tell you the meeting is with China."

“China!” America exclaimed. “No! No way! No fucking way! There is no way in hell I’m going to let you go sign some agreement with that asshole! Did you forget? He was in league with Russia and North Korea! He was there! He was there at that damned ice hell!”  
And it was clear for all to see how upset Alfred really was, but it was also easy to see how irrational he was being. Matthew had to do what was best for his country, and for himself for that matter, and that at the moment was to fix the trade snafu he’d hit. All he was going to do was sign some papers and it would be over with. He was flying in to do such a thing at one of his government’s buildings. There would be plenty of protection around.  
And so, Canada and Britain alike carefully explained these things to America. He couldn’t argue against it. As a country persona, he knew perfectly well what the responsibilities entailed.   
He did at least, start to feel a little better when Canada reminded him that China hadn’t hurt anyone at Russia’s house, and in fact, had done the complete opposite. He’d helped Canada stay alive, and then was the one to bring him to the hospital.  
“Fine!” he eventually agreed. “But I’m coming with you!” And of course, this made Mexico at least, very sad. She wouldn’t be able to go with him, and the entire vacation they had planned together was instantly ruined. Now he’d be flying off with his brother, and she knew exactly what that meant for Alfred. He’d be fussing and worrying and stressing about every little thing. He could hardly help it. After all…Russia had planted a seed of terror in him that could never be erased. At least…not for a very long time. Her only hope for him was that because they were countries and they lived so very long, that one day, he would loosen his hold on his little brother.   
He was a little bit already. So perhaps, in another fifty years or so, they could go back to having a normal relationship, instead of one built on the fear of losing one another. 

On the plane back to Canada the younger brother continued to sneeze like he had caught a summer cold. But thankfully, Canada's condition did not deteriorate further. It seemed the trade snafu wasn't going to get any worse. With America seated next to him, Canada found himself on the phone a lot as they flew over his brother's country to reach his. Canada was reading through a massive amount of paperwork which proved to be much harder with America in his ear every five minutes trying to read over his shoulder. It was slowly driving him mad. However Matthew had a lifetime of practice ignoring America when he needed to. Which is just what he did.   
He got through all of his documents by the time he started the drive to his parliament building. He spent his time reassuring his brother that the walls were not out to get him. He also made sure to tell America that Russia was not in his country. It was China who had sent explicit instructions that if America wanted to come he could. That in itself was a good thing, China could have easily forbidden America from the meeting. It was sensitive things they had to talk about after all. They had nothing to do with America. He had no business being there. Still the ancient nation seemed to understand America's plight. He was relaxing in a chair when the North American twins came into the room. Canada trying to keep his brother behind him.  
"Ei-ya. I thought you got lost. Everything fall apart quickly."  
"Sorry. The plane ride back took longer than expected." Canada walked to his seat. He'd made America promise to just be a silent observer as he sat down in a seat next to him. He didn't expect that to last long, but he wanted to get this meeting over with as soon as possible. He hoped America could stay calm for the amount of time he needed.   
Canada was not excited by China's presence since he did have ties to Russia and North Korea, but China had helped him. That was something he had never thanked the other nation for. So as he took his seat with a hand full of papers to read over he looked up at the oriental nation.  
"Thank you for helping me to the hospital that day. You didn't have to, and I appreciate it."  
China continued to stare across the table at the two brothers.  
"They go too far. That was not supposed to be point of meeting."  
America tensed in his chair. He’d promised his brother not to say anything, but it was hard. He certainly wouldn’t have called what happened to him and all his friends and family a ‘meeting.’ Kidnapping perhaps. Imprisonment. Even torture. But certainly not ‘a meeting.’   
All the same, somehow, someway, he kept silent. He may not have been very good at self-restraint, but he respected the fact that he was currently in Canada at a Canadian meeting. This was his brother’s battle. So he would let him deal with it as he saw fit.   
Matthew shuffled through his papers signing off on a new trade agreement his boss had approved. It already had China's signature on it. Matthew stopped signing for a moment and looked back to China.   
He had to admit that Russia's original plan still eluded him. They had never been told by future America, and Russia had never explained his motives. It seemed that all Russia had accomplished was the agony of several different countries personifications. Even if they had all individually suffered, their countries hadn't.   
Canada thought then of his boyfriend and how scary that had been. Prussia had the longest recovery time, and Canada had thanked Alfred every day that he had protected Prussia and kept him as safe as he had.   
And so, when the opportunity presented to Matthew, that he could now perhaps ask China what Russia’s goals were, Canada quickly jumped at any hint of what Russia had tried to accomplish.  
"What was the original point of this so called meeting? Why take Italy and take such a backhanded way to talk to me."  
Again America cringed in his seat. ‘Talk’ was another really nice word that he disapproved of. All of this chatter about ‘talking’ and ‘meetings’ grated on his nerves. It felt like glass on a chalkboard. But again…he bit his tongue. He’d promised Matthew. Besides, he wanted to hear what China would say.   
"I had nothing do with Italy,” the older country said. “I rather we just call you directly. Russia was up to something that he no tell me or North Korea about. Italy was taken before I come with North Korea. Original meeting was..." Then his eyes filtered over to America, "Something you no like. Further trade agreement. Further alliances." China shrugged his shoulders, "Still may come to pass that we deal with each other more." It was true that no matter how much any of them suffered they still had to do what was best for their country. That never changed. Hence why Canada had come to sign all of these documents and meet with China. If he didn't it was his country that would suffer.  
China let out a heavy sigh, "They make it difficult. I want to expand alliances. You used to be actively looking for new allies Canada. With your isolationism I think maybe you be good country to get to know better. Russia also want to become more involved with your country, Canada. Hoping that with all your history as of late he drive wedge further between you two. Maybe if he get closer to you Canada it make America appear weaker."   
China turned to look at both North American twins. Perhaps the worst part of all that speech was that Russia had driven a wedge between the two brothers. Twice. In that future timeline, that would not come to pass. In the doubt he had shoved into Alfred's mind about his brother's betrayal, he had managed to kill them both in some other place and time. He had made America truly doubt his brother's love. No rift was bigger than what Russia had caused. Canada didn't make a sound as he glared down at his paper work and continued to sign away.   
China looked between the two twins then commented on what he had observed over the past few months.  
"You two get along better lately. All world see it. I simply want to approach calm country about expanding our friendship. They burn many bridge. I have not seen them since I left Russia."

America could have said a lot. He really could have. But something told him not to. He knew exactly how angry he was, and how hurt. His physical wounds from what he suffered under Russia’s hand had all healed…but there were plenty of other’s that hadn’t. Although he didn’t talk about it much with anyone, including his girlfriend and family, America understood that they all knew what he was going through. He didn’t have to talk or explain anything. They supported him anyway, the way a family should. As such, over the past few months, a lot of them had done the talking for him.  
Britain had expressed his concern several times over his son’s excessive anger about the subject. And Mexico had expressed her concern about his sorrow. They were both right in saying he needed to figure out how to get a handle on it. And finally six months after the fact, he finally felt like he was able to control it.   
The anxiety was still somewhat dreadful. Like when Matthew wanted to go to a meeting with China for example. But…he was growing to be better about that too. America may have still had to come to accompany his brother, just to be present and make sure he wasn’t going to get hurt…but…he could at least remain quiet.   
Even if they were indirectly talking about what had been done to him at Russia’s.   
It was ok.   
He trusted his brother.   
Fully and completely.   
And because of that, he knew that nothing Russia had planned would ever come to pass. He could never drive a wedge between them now. Not ever. Alfred would always believe his brother over anyone else. Even if there was evidence saying otherwise. Even if there were say…pictures involved.   
No, nothing could shake him now.   
And as such, he could sit quietly and listen to China speak so calmly about the pain he’d been put through, because he knew that Matthew would take care of it. His brother…would always be there to take care of him the way that Alfred was there for him too. And this was his country and his meeting. And so…it was Matthew’s decision on how to respond. 

Matthew pressed his pen into the paper and dragged it across the page. There was an unexpected ripping noise as it jabbed through the parchment. Canada's eyebrows which were already lowered went back up in disbelief and annoyance at the hole in his document, but he simply transferred it over to his signed stack and continued onward. He knew if this was resolved quickly they could still make it back to Mexico for the second half of their vacation. He had no urge to drag this out, but he did stop signing and turned to look over at his brother. He knew America was upset, angry, and all-in-all handling everything very well at this meeting. He had yet to fly across the table and try to get at China for what he had said.  
Canada looked from his brother back across the table at China.  
"I can't cut off trade with you or Russia. You know that. I know that. We all know that. I also can't stop you or Russia from applying for more involvement in certain things. I am still thankful you didn't let me die at Russia's. I know I wasn't in good shape there, but I'm still angry too. You could have helped my brother, but you didn't. I don't care what excuse you have for that either."   
Canada cut China's rebuttal off before he had a chance to say it.  
"I love my brother." Canada looked to America once more. "He's cocky, somewhat brash, and a lot of the time a pain in my side. However, he's also my brother, he takes care of his friends, and I think a lot of the time even if things don't go like he plans he still tries his best to be a hero. Whatever Russia was trying to do, I don't care. He kidnapped my friends, hurt my boyfriend, and tortured my brother...and I hate him for it."   
Even in anger Canada's voice was quiet, but at least it was slightly louder as he glared across the table.  
"I will never forgive him for what he did. You can tell him that. I may not be able to stop him from coming to my country for business meetings or trade meetings like this, but if I can block him, I will. I want nothing to do with him. America and I were on vacation, and I plan to get back there. I know we have to meet again this evening, and then I will see you to the airport." Canada picked up his stack of papers and hit the bottom of the pages along the table. Then he stood up and turned to his brother.  
"Let's relax until the next meeting this evening and then tonight we'll leave to meet everyone. Ok?"

America gazed at his brother, something close to amazement on his face. He knew how hard it was for Matthew to speak up about things, to speak up about anything for that matter. Especially during a diplomatic meeting such as this. He had always been the type to stay quiet, and lay low and let everything blow over. America had half expected him not to say anything to China at all. So when he did speak up, firmly, and devoutly in America’s defense, Alfred had to be touched. It meant a lot to him. More than Matthew probably even realized.   
And so, the two brothers concluded the meeting and left the conference room together. And as soon as they stepped out of the room and into the hall and away from prying eyes, America immediately moved forward. He threw his arms around his little brother, pulling him in close, and holding him tightly. Bowing his head, he pressed his blonde locks into those of his brothers.   
“Thank you…” he whispered. And he didn’t need to explain what he was thanking him for, and Matthew didn’t even need to respond. Lifting his arms, Canada hugged his brother back just as tightly. And with one good final squeeze, they parted and let one another go.   
After that, they went back to the hotel to recuperate. And after that, later in the evening, they headed back to Canada’s government building to finish up their business with China. Then, after a good night’s rest back at the hotel, they woke up early in the morning to hop back on a plane for Mexico.  
Already, Alfred was talking excitingly about the plans he had in store for everyone. And since they’d missed the first week of vacation, he was now talking about cramming all his plans into the few days they had left.   
“And we have to go see Mexico City of course!” He was raving. “And we didn’t get to enjoy the beach either. We have to do that again, properly this time! Oh! And the food! You guys have got to eat some authentic Mexican food! Maaaan! Although, Britain might die, since he doesn’t know what spices are! Maybe we can get him some plain rice, like some sort of baby! Hahaha!”   
Canada smiled, tolerating his brother as always. But even though he was being loud and obnoxious…it was good. Matthew knew that this was the way Alfred was supposed to be, meant to be. Matthew hadn’t liked it at all right after the Russian incident when he’d been quiet and withdrawn. That just wasn’t him. And so, seeing him so rambunctious once more was wonderful, even if he was disturbing everyone else on the plane.  
Landing back in Mexico, America and Canada were thrilled to find their entire group of friends waiting for them at the airport. Germany, Italy, Britain, France, Prussia and Mexico. They were all there. And as Canada ran into Prussia’s arms, and America ran to hug Mexico, Britain frowned and lowered his arms which had been open in expectation of hugs from his sons. He pouted. Then laughing, both brothers’ eventually went to hug their father too, after receiving kisses from their partners.  
“Que? Non hugs for me?” France complained. Matthew of course went to hug his papa, but America only stuck out his tongue with a very mature ‘phht!’ Mexico let out a gasp, and immediately smacked him across his arm.  
“Ow!”  
“Dat’s no way to treat jour papa!” And France of course, loved that.  
“Oui! That’s non way to treat your papa Amerique! Now you come to papa and give ‘im a big kiss!”  
“Gross! Never dude!” And this time, Mexico didn’t hit him. There was something disturbing about the look on France’s face and there was no way she was going to make America hug him now.  
“On second thought…Alfred…jou stay ‘ere wid me.” And quickly, she interlocked her arms with his. France let out a merry ‘hon hon hon.”  
The group headed back to their hotel, and all over again, just like the first time, they all changed into their bathing suits. They were going to make it to the beach damn it! And they were determined to have a wonderful time!  
And so, the second time around, the group managed to finally relax. Or…at least…relax as much as they could with all the mischief and rambunctiousness that came with the territory of such a large group of nations. Britain sat in a beach chair under the shade of one of the umbrellas, due to the fact that he burned easily.   
“It’s so bloody hot…” he complained, then reached out to the iced tea he had waiting for him to help him cool off. France, seated on the blanket beside him, could not help but to tease.  
“Zat is because you’re not used to la sun or la sky, or anything othair than rain and cold and misery. Oui?” Britain would have retaliated a bit more fiercely, but he was feeling too relaxed, and it was too hot out. And so, lazily he said,  
“Shut up Frog…” Then proceeded to take a sip from his drink. Looking out before him, was a sight to behold for a parent. America, Canada, Prussia, and Mexico were all in the water together. They played as if they were children, carefree and joyfully. Prussia and Canada were trying to smear sunscreen on each other’s faces, considering they both burned like Britain, but America and Mexico wouldn’t seem to let them. Being more southern, the sun didn’t bother them as much, and they seemed to want to play before the other couple was ready.  
“Bro! We have to do a chicken fight! Come on! Come on!” As impatient as always America prodded and pushed Canada until the younger of the two cracked and barked back in his quiet way,  
“Fine! Just shut up for a second!” America immediately bent down in the water to allow Mexico to climb up onto his back, and once he had a firm grip on her legs, he stood back up. Laughing, he ran around with her in the ocean as Canada very awkwardly tried to figure out how to mount Prussia. Blushing furiously, he went behind his boyfriend and tried to crawl up onto him, but Prussia was standing tall, and hadn’t bent down as America had. It seemed almost as if he were making it hard on Matthew on purpose.  
“I don’t zee what zee problem iz? Birdie should juzt be more aggrezzive! Like zee awezome me!”  
“Gilbert,” Matthew groaned. “I can’t…it’s slippery…” And then of course, Prussia was blushing too. And it was then, at that moment that a shadow fell over the ex nation. Blinking his red eyes and looking up, he found his brother. Germany stood tall, and like a brick wall. And on top of his shoulders Italy sat, looking as happy and as excited as ever. The couple gazed down at Prussia.  
“You might vant to let Canada up bruder, or Italy unt I vill crush you in another ten seconds.” A large grin spread over Prussia’s face at the challenge.  
“You’re on West! We will see who zee last one ztangink iz! And of course, it vill be zee awezome me!”  
“Hey!” Canada objected.   
“And Birdie too! Come on Birdie! Hop on!” And this time, bending down for his partner, Canada had no trouble climbing up onto Gilbert’s shoulders. With a grunt and a huff, the couple was up. America and Mexico, seeing that everyone was finally assembled, hurried back over to the group.  
“Awesome! Germany and Italy are going to fight too!”   
“Ok, everyvon get into a circle. Let’s do dis properly,” Germany instructed.  
“Fuck that! Ready, set, go!” America screamed. And just like that, they were off. Mexico screamed as her crazy boyfriend charged forward like a rhinoceros. But it seemed to work, because it caught poor Italy off guard, who also screamed…much in the same decibel as Mexico had.   
“Ah hahaha! Take that!” Alfred cried. But Germany wouldn’t be moved. Like the tank he was, he moved forward forcefully, smashing his poor boyfriend into Mexico.  
“Ohi! Ve!” Italy cried.   
“Nein! Italy! Use your arms you dummkopf! Not your face!”   
“Germania! I’m-a-tryiiiing!” He wailed. And then of course, Canada and Prussia, the sneaky team, had come up behind Mexico. With little warning Matthew shoved the mocha skinned nation from behind. But, with Canada being so shy and polite, he did little more than unbalance her, causing her to throw her hands forward, both palms smashing into the front of America’s face.   
“UGH! My glasses!” Alfred cried.   
“Kekekeke! Unawesome iz blind! Nowz our chance! Get em Birdie!” And then there was only a fray to watch, water and laughter spraying in every which direction as the chicken fight continued.   
Britain watched from his blanket, seated in the shade, and spitting his tea peacefully. A small smile graced his lips as he lowered his sunglasses to get a better view of the ruckus in the water before him. Countries could be disorderly, for certain. And they sure were great at bickering with one another, or causing unnecessary arguments. And sometimes they could even fight with one another on a more serious level, but…  
When they all got together like this, and everyone was able to have fun, well…it seemed like the most powerful magic in the world to Britain. It was so nice to see everyone so happy and so carefree. It warmed a spot deep within him. And perhaps, there was no greater joy for a parent than this. It was a perfect moment. And he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Normally he would have chastised them all for being such children but…like Canada had recognized on the plane, he now recognized too.  
This was who they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to put the final chapters up. I have not had time to edit them like previous chapters, so I hope their aren't to many glaring errors. If their are I'll get around to fixing them soon.


	26. Clearing Things Up

Chapter 26  
Clearing Things Up

Of course, no one could have really expected an easy night. America woke up screaming only an hour after the lights had been turned out. And of course, Britain was right there at his side. Scooping his upper body into his arms, he immediately soothed his distraught son, running a hand through his hair and telling him everything was just fine, that he and his brother were safe. America clung to his father, shivering in his arms, his blue eyes wide with fright.  
But America wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. Over at the hotel room Germany and Italy had rented, a small, sensitive country was pressed firmly into Germany’s chest. Clutching his larger, stronger boyfriend, Italy cried into his shirt. Ludwig couldn’t do much for him…other than hold him, and wish to God that the horror he experienced at Russia’s would soon fade.   
But eventually the morning came, and the nightmares ended. Another day was spent at the hospital, and a ton of phone calls were made to the countries bosses to explain where they’d been and what was going on. Then the rest of the day was spent playing cards, reading, or watching sports on TV.   
Then that day came and went and another came in its place. The cycle continued until on the third day. America was feeling much better by then. Able to sit up on his own and having gotten most of his energy back, he was looking more and more like himself. His smiles came more frequently, and the number of tears he shed was reduced. And on this day, the nurses announced that it was time to help Alfred out of bed and onto his feet, and also, they would remove the tube from Canada’s throat.   
Both twins were healing quickly, even by countries standards. Britain suspected it was because they were together, and were constantly able to see that the other was alright.  
“Its fine, Britain can help me,” America was telling the nurse. He had already picked out the outfit he wanted to wear for the day, clothes being brought to him by his fathers. He was clearly eager to get to his feet and change into his street clothes over the stupid hospital gown he’d been stuck in.   
“I don’t know sir…if you fall and get hurt, the hospital is liable, and if I’m not helping you then…”  
“Ah, liable-shmiable! Look sister, it’s pretty simple, it’d be way too freaking weird for you to help me change clothes…you’re a chick.”  
“Hon hon hon! But that is ‘alf le fun, non?” France interrupted. He was already wearing his perverted face, even first thing in the morning. America rolled his eyes.   
“Yeah, cuz that’s not creepy at all. Come on Arthur! You’re the only one here who won’t molest me, let’s go, chop-chop!” The nurse, frustrated, threw her hands in the air.   
“Fine! But I’m telling the doctor that this wasn’t my fault!” And then she stormed out of the room. 

After three days of being able to do nothing more than lie on his back and stare up at a bland ceiling Canada was thankful when the doctor and nurses came over to take the tube out of his throat. Canada had to suffer through a few uncomfortable minutes as the doctors made their preparations and started to un-tape the plastic tube from around his mouth. After a few minutes and a lot of hacking Canada was finally free. Having not talked in days his throat was dry and scratchy. He lay in bed sucking on ice chips trying to squeak out a few meager words. After a few more minutes and a glass of water Alfred could hear Canada’s soft voice once more. He was asking someone to stop doing something.   
Once America and Britain came back into the room they saw Canada and Prussia lying in bed together once again. Prussia had spent most of the past two days at the side of his incapacitated boyfriend. Once again the nation and ex-nation were lying side by side, and Prussia had the remote for the bed in his hand. Now that Canada could actually move Prussia was pressing the button on the remote and raising the bed up. Once it was upright he proceeded to press the down button and take the bed back down. Canada had put up with it the first few times. But that ship had sailed and now the wavy hair twin was giving his boyfriend a look that said ‘would you stop that’.   
Then there was the fact that his papa was half on Canada’s bed and half on America’s bed since they were still side by side. The pervy nation was wrapped around his son’s waist squeezing him close. France was squeezing his son as tightly as he dare and kissing him on his forehead and cheeks. Matthew looked over when his brother and father came back into the room. He was quietly begging for help, but he didn’t say anything.  
“Alfred.” He said in a quiet, scratchy voice. He was glad that he could finally speak again, “I’m so glad you’re better.” He was smiling at his brother when Prussia pressed the button and the bed started to descend once more. Matthew’s face crinkled up as he started the slow journey back down with France still on top of him, and Prussia was more than happy to ignore his old friend and play with the bed remote.  
“Blimey! Frog! Would you give the lad some breathing room!” Britain’s face scrunched up as he yelled across the room and helped Alfred back to his bed.  
France reached up and gently pinched Matthew’s cheek, “Bu’ I finally have mon petite, back! I will squeeze du forever Matthieu. Papa will nevar let you go again!”

Oh, but Alfred wasn’t getting back into bed. Oh no. No matter how weak he was, there was no way he was letting any of this pass! Letting go of Britain, who’d been supporting him, Alfred took a few unsteady steps forward on his own, his face looking very determined.   
“Alfred!” Britain cried when he saw his son stumble. But he held out his hands and caught himself on the foot of Canada’s bed before he went down. Righting himself, and using the edge of his brother’s bed for support, he shimmied his way to the side that Prussia was on.   
“Stop that!” He barked. Reaching out, he grabbed the controls away from him. “Can’t you see you’re annoying the piss outta him?” Putting the controller down on the nightstand, America then started back around to the other side.   
His knees shook and he really did not look all that stable. But he hardly seemed to care as he reached his own bed. Then, stretching out his arms, he grabbed onto France’s shoulders and struggled to pull him off of Canada. But…for once in his life…he hadn’t the strength to do so.  
“Get off of him you perverted old man!” 

“Oh don be mean Amerique! I jus’ want to make sur your brothar knows he is well loved!” When it became apparent a bit of muscle would be needed to remove the annoying country Britain came up beside his injured son reaching over Alfred’s bed. He grabbed onto his brother and dragged France off of Canada.   
The older country whined like he were a child, but after a short struggle Britain managed to drag the taller country off of the bed and away from his sons.  
“Thank you.” Canada smiled at his brother and father. Something Alfred had not seen his brother do in about a week.  
Matthew reached out across the bed putting his hand on his unsteady brother. Not really in much better shape, but wanting to help his brother Matthew grabbed onto Alfred’s shirt to help him back onto the bed.  
“Alfred.” The sensitive nation slowly started to tear up a bit as he was finally able to look his brother over. He hadn’t been able to look straight at Alfred since he’d been admitted in the hospital, and he surely hadn’t been able to hold his brother since this whole nightmare had started. The last time he had seen his brother Alfred had been injured and tied up on Russia’s floor. It had been one of the most horrible things he’d ever seen, and he’d been having nightmares about it for days. He just hadn’t been able to tell anyone what he’d been dreaming about when he woke up… or make a noise… the whole experience of the last few days had been horrible.   
Suddenly not caring about the consequences Matthew lunged across the bed much to the shock of everyone in the room, and threw his arms around his twin for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He held his brother close and gave him a gentle squeeze.

America let out a startled cry, and as unsteady as he was, he immediately toppled to the floor, dragging his brother down with him.  
“Alfred!”  
“Matthew!” The brothers found themselves lying on the hospital tile, but neither had been hurt. Alfred, finding his little brother on top of him, clinging to him, shaking, immediately lifted his arms to wrap him up in a tight embrace. Or at least…as tightly as he could manage. Canada would easily be able to feel how weak his brother had become. All the same, America didn’t let him go. He quickly buried his face in his brother’s hair.  
“I’m so sorry Matt…” he said quietly. “I should have believed in you harder…I…didn’t believe enough…I saw that picture and I…I let it…I let it fool me…” Alfred shook from the mere effort it took to remain sitting up, and to hold his brother. “Sorry bro…”

Matthew was a confused by his brother’s words, but he wrapped his arms around his brother all the more tightly trying to ease the physical strain on his twin. He remembered very little from the first day in the hospital, but he thought he remembered Prussia asking him something strange when he’d first woken up in the hospital. He also thought he remembered some picture being mentioned once before. What was wrong with a picture? How had a picture fooled his twin?   
Confused Matthew decided it would be best to just ask.  
“What are you talking about Al? What picture? Is this about what happened at Russia’s? I’m not mad. I know he hurt you. As long as you’re ok now, eh, then I’m ok too.” Thinking it was as simple as that Matthew squeezed his twin once more.  
Britain got on the floor beside his sons. He gently reached out and helped support Alfred. Then he turned his green eyes on Canada.  
“We saw the picture of you at Russia’s house. Two Polaroid’s in fact. We need to talk about them. In one you were injured.”  
Canada pulled his face away from his brother so he could look at his father. He was glad when Prussia came to his side and offered him support to stay upright. Despite the weakness in his body he knew he had to continue with the conversation at hand. An ashamed look coming over his features. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Britain was talking about.  
“I… I didn’t know he took a picture of that. I didn’t go to Russia’s by choice then. I just wasn’t in any shape to say no. I’m sorry. I knew if you found out you’d be upset at Cuba. I didn’t want to push you when you were already having so many other problems, Al. Maybe I should have brought it up, but it happened so long ago I didn’t think any good would come from ever bringing it up. I just forgot about it, but still you were really upset, Al. Even if Cuba beat me up why would that make you think I was a traitor?”  
Britain cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Canada looked at his father as Britain’s face became suddenly serious.  
“We saw the other thing too.”  
Canada quirked his head to the side in confusion as he looked between his family members.  
“Eh? Other thing?” He asked quietly. He had no idea what Britain was referring to. Britain was beating around the bush and looked off to the side.  
“He had another Polaroid. So there’s no real use denying it. We… we’re coming to terms with it.”  
“I don’t understand.” Canada blinked as he looked back at his father and then to his brother, “Coming to terms with what?”  
“We saw you in bed with him, Matthew.” Britain reached up running his hand through his hair, “We know you slept with Russia in the seventies.”  
The indigo eyes of his twin suddenly widened. They looked as if they may pop out of his head at any given moment. His mouth moved up and down like a fish out of water for a minute as Canada tried to work through what he’d just heard.   
“Wh-wh-WHAT?” His scratchy, raw voice cracked as he yelled in horror. He immediately started coughing, but he waved off assistance as he looked back at his two family members, “Wha-what are you talking about!? I-I never!” He stuttered on the last word and then turned to look at his twin, “I went to Russia, yes. I nev-never did that with him though! I-I barely even saw Russia! I would never-NEVER sleep with him!” He stared at Britain and America in horror. A genuine look of horror on his young face.   
If Britain had not seen the pictures it would have been easy to believe his son.  
“Matthew. It was a Polaroid. It couldn’t be faked… There’s really no use in denying it.”  
“No! You- you don’t get it! I didn’t sleep with Russia! I have never slept with anyone before Gilbert! I- I didn’t- I” Matthew’s voice caught in his throat as he raised his hand to his chest his breathing coming in short gasps as he started to outright panic. Britain immediately became alarmed and reached out a hand to support the Northern twin.

America immediately reached out, holding his brother even more tightly. He squeezed him to his chest. He shuddered, this time not from being weak. All the same, he didn’t let Matthew go.  
“I believe you now…” America said. “I know you wouldn’t do that. I told…I told Russia that. I told him you’d never…never do that. But he said you were mad at me and I…I knew you were. And he said…I didn’t notice…I didn’t notice you leave for his house because…well…I…I was so smashed from drugs back then. And I didn’t know how he’d know those things if you didn’t tell him yourself. And I thought…I thought you must have been so mad at me…so mad at me that you might’ve…”  
Canada felt America’s heart pick up pace at the memory. He felt his brother tremble in his arms as he tried to talk about what it was Russia had done to scramble him so badly.   
“I denied it. I told him he was crazy, that I’d never believe him, that you were my brother and I would believe in you. But then…he had that picture…”   
Alfred buried his face in his little brother’s hair, hiding his hurt expression from his father’s so they wouldn’t see.   
“You looked really smashed bro…” he whispered so only Matthew would hear him. He just couldn’t stand it if Britain or France heard him talking in such a way. “Really smashed…Russia said you drank vodka with him…that you did it to forget me…to punish me…”   
He shivered again as if he could still feel how cold the air was around him, how the stone floor he laid on was like ice.   
“Y..y…you were naked and…” But he couldn’t finish. The memory of it clearly still far too painful for him.   
“B…but it’s ok. I believe you now. Even if it was a Polaroid. I believe you. He must have faked it somehow…no matter what it looked like. Right?” And it was evidently, plainly clear, that America was going to believe whatever his brother told him, regardless of logic or evidence, or argument. And that made Britain very, very nervous. Alfred could have been setting himself up for a horrific fall. And if he was crushed a second time…Britain just didn’t know if he would be able to get back up again. The island nation’s palms began to sweat.

“I only went there on business! I ne-never drank at Russia’s! We had dinner, but all of his subordinates were there. Russia and I were never alone. I don-don’t understand! I never-” Matthew drew in a sharp breath, “I only wanted to help you. I thought maybe I could help take the tensions off of you if I managed to talk to him, but he didn’t want to listen to me. He was always busy and controlling and….”   
Matthew wrapped his arms around his brother’s chest, “O-oh ma-maple…. O-oh no… I-I got si-sick over there once. I… I… Lithuania and Estonia… they said… I had f-food poisoning, but I…” His voice caught in his throat, “Oh my God. I couldn’t remember anything. I just slept and was nauseous and threw up for days. Th-they said I had botulism or som-something. Oh holy maple!”   
He looked up and around the room frantically, “Where is Estonia! Wh-what the holy maple leaf happened that night! Wh-why was I-I in bed with Russia!? Oh-oh God!” He started to panic again and pull away from his twin in an attempt to go find the other nation, “I was in bed with Russia!?” That thought made the younger twin’s face turn pale and for a moment it looked like he were stuck between being nauseous or passing out.

And quite suddenly, Alfred paled too. He’d been assuming the picture was faked somehow, in order to protect himself. But now…suddenly…it swung completely the other way. Now Matthew was saying that it wasn’t necessarily faked…but staged.   
And Alfred, being the big brother that he was, immediately assumed the worst and that Russia may have done something to his little brother while he was sick and unconscious.   
And that thought suddenly made everything that had happened to him so…very…much…worse. Not only did Russia torture him with the idea that his little brother betrayed him, but Alfred went on ahead and believed it when in truth he was being shown a picture of his little brother being…being…taken advantage of!   
And Alfred hadn’t done anything about it. No. He’d lay there on the ground, believing his brother to be the bad guy!   
It filled him with rage.   
Russia had made a fool of him.   
In more ways than one.   
He was probably laughing about it, right then! Thinking about how he’d hurt America’s little brother, then showed him the proof of that, and made him believe it was Matthews fault!   
America started seething. He started shaking, violently. He clutched his little brother in his arms. But soon enough, his fury was simply uncontainable.  
“Oh…oh I’ll kill him! I’ll fucking kill him!” He screamed. He was so upset he could barely think. But man…he knew what he had to do.  
“No one fucking touches my little bro!” And with that, America put his hands out onto Matthew’s shoulders. With a groan, his body shivering from the strain, he pushed himself up to his feet. “I’m gunna go kill him! I’ll kill him! I’ll fucking kill him!” Looking completely crazed, America started marching toward the hospital door, one shaky step in front of the other. He stumbled once, but caught himself, then started marching toward the exit all over again. 

Britain rushed up behind his son. His own features paling as he listened to the truth of what had truly happened. "He reached out wrapping his arms firmly around his older son's body, "Stop! Wait! You should not be up and moving like this. You are not going back to Russia. I can promise you that!"

On the floor Matthew waved Prussia off as he tried to take in the facts of what had just taken place.   
Matthew pointed Prussia at Alfred and thinking his boyfriend needed space Prussia backed off. He tried to respect his boyfriend's wishes and went to Britain to try and help with Alfred. He tried to assist the struggling British gentleman with his son. Soon Prussia, Britain, and France were helping Britain with Alfred. America was still weak, so Britain was enough to keep the nation from leaving, but America's rage made him struggle despite his injuries. France and Prussia were helping to keep the struggling nation from injuring himself further.

Matthew slowly stood up off of the floor. He walked towards his brother, and Prussia assumed he was going to say something to Alfred. He let Matthew approach, but as Matthew came up beside the group he turned and bolted out of the door of the hospital room. He tore down the hallway looking for someone who could set the events of the night in question in order. Clutching his chest as he breathed frantically, his blonde hair swished from side to side. His body shaking he ran as fast as he could through the hospital halls in his hospital gown looking for Estonia.  
(Germany could stop him)

 

Alfred could have cared less about his still healing injuries. He could have cared less about how much strength he'd recovered...which of course was very little. He hardly cared that if he tried to run off to Russia, he probably wouldn't even make it there. He had to try. He had to get out of that hospital, find a gun and go blast his face in. Perhaps several times.   
He hardly cared that if he went to go find him, he'd probably just get beaten and captured again considering his condition. He just didn't care.  
"Get off of me!" He screamed to the three countries holding him down to the floor for his own safety. He tried to fight them, but was simply too weak. "Get off! I have to do something about this! I have to!" And it was then that Canada ran by. America simply freaked when he saw him go. He started screaming.  
"Matt! Matt! Stop him! Matthew no!" America gave it all he had. And as a result, he started to hurt himself. And then he was screaming for a different reason.

But as America struggled, he really didn't need to worry. For as soon as Matthew ran down the hall, he ran face first into Germany's hard-packed, ripped chest. With an oof, the smaller country fell back onto the hallway floor. Germany blinked down at him, Italy as always at his side, several bags of McDonalds food in their hands.  
"Vhat...Canada. Vhat are you doink?" 

Prussia felt his heart leap out of his chest as his boyfriend left the room. He put both of his hands on America's shoulders, "Unawezome! I'll go get him! I'll bring him right back. Stay here. I'll be right back." Prussia pushed himself up off of the floor and turned, quickly bolting out of the room.  
For once in his life France wore a serious face as he held onto his older son, "Amerique. Get betta' first. Then we d'will deal with this. Du cannot do anything like dis. Gilbert will bring back your brothar. Settle down." He kept his hands on his son's shoulders so he could restrain him as gently as possible.  
Britain reached out pushing France aside. He wrapped his arms around America. With a firm embrace he pulled his older son to his chest. He clutched America tightly as his arms trembled, "Alfred I have to go get your brother. Then... I have to go kill someone.... Calm down, love. Francis watch Alfred. I'll go get Matthew. I'll be right back." Gently he pushed his son into Francis arms. He kissed his forehead and started to get up. France pulled the Northern twin into his arms and held him close to his chest. It was one of the rare times when France was not trying to pull anything. He just held his son close to his chest and made sure he was safe.

Out in the hall Canada looked up at Germany and Italy from the floor. His indigo eyes were wide and darting around in his skull. He was panting heavily from his small run down the hallway or from his raw emotions it really didn't matter at the moment. Matthew clutched at his chest and not answering the question Germany had asked he simply went to push himself up off of the floor. As he stood he went to dodge around the other two nations panting wildly.  
Prussia poked his head out into the hallway just in the nick of time. He shouted out to his younger brother, "Bruder! Stop him! Donz let him go!" Prussia quickly started to run down the hallway towards his boyfriend who was trying to get around Germany. Prussia saw Canada's move, "Matthew! Wait!"

"Matthew!" Alfred cried. "Don't let him go! Don't let him..." He would have kept fighting, would have struggled harder...but...he'd used up what little strength he'd had, and...he'd managed to hurt himself in his desperation. And so, when Prussia and Britain left, America couldn't do much but allow France to hold him.   
Normally one to fight his second father, and normally the first to voice his displeasure at being near him, he quite suddenly and uncharacteristically, turned and buried his face in his shirt. Although Alfred had been recovering quite nicely the past three days, clearly, the extra push that he'd just received had been enough to push him right back over.  
He was panicking, completely and fully. With his brother having left the room and his field of vision so suddenly, and being unable to follow, he was unraveling, and fast. Gasping for air, his heart racing, he started sobbing all over again. 

Out in the hall, Germany stared at the younger twin. He could hear America screaming from the hospital room. He sounded terrified, like he was completely losing it. Germany had no idea what was going on, but he soon heard his brother shout at him to stop Canada. As soon as the order was given, the little twin leapt up and went to sprint by his side. But Germany was quick. He immediately dropped the McDonald's bags he'd been carrying and struck out, snaring the back of Canada's shirt as he went to run by. Lifting him with ease, he hoisted him so that his feet left the ground. Holding him safely with both hands, it wasn't hard to restrain the weakened country.   
"Ok, I've got 'em. Now tell me vhat zee hell is goink on."  
Italy reached out, taking up the fallen food. 

Canada weakly started to struggle in Ludwig's arms. The smaller twin was unable to pull free. He still kept up his struggle until his knees gave out and he started to collapse to the floor.   
"Let me go! Let me go! P-Please! I-I have to go! I ha-have to a-ask Es-Est-tonia.... He was there. He- " He raised his hand to his chest as his air supply came in short gasps from his panic.

Prussia ran up to his boyfriend who had sunk down to the floor. Germany was still holding onto the back of his shirt, but Matthew had stopped trying to run. Prussia reached his boyfriend and reached out grabbing a hold of Matthew he pulled him into a hug. He buried the smaller man's head under his chin.  
"I'll go find him. Yourz ztill zick. Zo you need to rest. I'll go getz Estonia. I'llz drag his azz back here, and we'll getz to the bottom of zis. If thatz what you want I'll go back to Russia and..." Prussia's voice trailed off as he watched Matthew fiercely shake his head no at the last suggestion.

Prussia barely had time alone with Matthew when Britain came running to his second son and dropped down to his knees. Matthew was buried against Prussia's chest. Something Britain knew must have been painful for the ex-nation, but Prussia didn't bat an eyelash as he held his panicking boyfriend. Britain reached out gently running his hands through his son's hair.  
"I'm sorry Matthew. I'm sorry I ever listened to Russia. I'm sorry for what I said, love. Please believe me. I will go get Estonia. You go back and rest for now. When I come back we'll get answers. Just give me thirty minutes or so. Gilbert. Watch them for me." Then Britain got up a fierce look in his eye as he marched by Germany in a search for their host country.

Prussia let out a heavy sigh as he gazed up at his little brother and Italy. A sad look on his face as he pulled his boyfriend closer to his throbbing chest.  
"Thoze pictures... they were real, but he doezn't rememberz them. Zeemz Matthew waz zick and Russia took advantage of the situation while he was unconscious. Matthew doez not remember being with Russia. America is pretty upset.... Everyone is pretty upset.... Matthew said he was zick for few days. He thinkz Estonia or Lithuania would be able to clear up ze thingz he cantz remember...."  
A sour look came over Prussia's face. If Russia had hurt his boyfriend there would be nowhere for him to hide in his icy tundra. Prussia would find a way to get revenge. It was then that Prussia heard America's commotion from down the hallway. He carefully reached out sliding his arms underneath his boyfriend. In one smooth motion and with a slight cringe of pain that he suppressed like the expert solider he was, he held his boyfriend in his arms and started to walk Matthew back to the hospital room he shared with his twin. When he stepped through the door he decided to walk Matthew over to his twin.  
"Unawezome. He'z right here. Zee?" 

France had managed to get his son up off of the floor and back onto his bed. He was sitting with Alfred and comforting him when Prussia came back in with Matthew.   
"Oh Dieu merci" (Oh thank God) France said out loud, "See ma petite Amérique. Canada est de retour." (See my little America. Canada is back.)  
Prussia came over setting the smaller twin on the bed next to America.

America had been hysterical, and as soon as his brother was given back to him, he flung himself forward. He attacked his little brother like a leech, wrapping both arms and legs around his body. Burying his face in him all over again, this time…he didn’t let go.  
It seemed that the incident with Russia had created two countries who now suffered from separation anxiety to an extreme degree. America, who was clearly open about his terror of his brother leaving his side, and…Germany…who was a lot more subtle…but no less terrified when Italy left his sight.   
Always having been good at hiding his true feelings…only Italy had been able to notice. But because he was at Germany’s side most of the time anyway, it was easy for them to hide. It was only during moments such as when Feliciano had to use the restroom that Germany’s fears became prevalent.   
Stepping into the hospital room, the couple moved as one over to the beds of the twins. Germany sighed in seeing what a wreck America suddenly appeared to be, when just that morning…he’d thought he was almost completely back to normal. It was disheartening…but he understood…because he was going through almost the same exact thing.   
“Ve found a McDonalds,” Ludwig said to the huddling mass that was two people…but could hardly be told apart. “And ve got you your disgustink burgers.”  
“And-a-coke-a and fries!” Italy chimed in. But oddly enough for everyone present, America didn’t even lift his head from his brother’s side. He kept himself attached to him tightly, his weakened body trembling from the recent fright he’d just suffered. And on top of that, he was far, far too upset about recent news to eat. Fearing the worst for his little brother, he continued to hold onto him.  
“I’m not hungry…” he muttered. And at those wretched words, almost everyone in the room let out a gasp of shock. 

"Unawezome. You need to eat to keep you strength up." Prussia stood at the side of the bed and stared down at the back of America's head. Damn, he thought to himself, juzt when he was starting to get a bit better. Now we're back to zis.   
France was still sitting by America's side he reached out placing one hand on Alfred's head and the other on Matthew's. For once America could find comfort and no threat from the older nation.  
"Boys. We are famaly, non? We dwill take care of tis."  
Matthew had calmed a bit and was now very aware of his brother's presence at his side. Mostly because Alfred was somewhere between hugging and crushing him in his attempt to keep him close. Matthew blinked his indigo eyes and carefully reached out placing his hand on his brother's cheek.  
"Al.... I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never... I'm so sorry." Seemingly stuck on those words Matthew leaned towards his brother and kissed his cheek. Then he returned Alfred’s desperate attempt to hold him by slowly moving a bit. He wrapped his arms around his brother and held him just as close. He knew some of the truth and no matter the outcome he would never forgive Russia for torturing his brother so viciously like this. He had managed to break the other countries spirits ...twice...and Matthew hated that perhaps more than anything.   
"All my life... I wanted to keep you safe because no matter what. You are my brother. I hate that he did this. You don’t deserve this Alfred. I love you so much."  
He leaned down pressing his forehead to his brothers, "You need to eat and get your strength back. I... I am going to be ok. No matter what. You are so important to me Al and I love you. I-if you feel better I do too. Even if I get sad for a little bit. All of you are here for me. I am not alone and I will get better. So... Just... Calm down for me. Ok? Let’s try to eat. I... I haven’t eaten in days. I... I’ll even eat a burger."

Some of America’s anxiety seemed to leave him then. Seeing his brother, hearing his voice, feeling him at his side was enough to relieve a lot of it. But hearing him say that he was ok…was the biggest relief of all. Maybe…if he doesn’t even remember it…then…maybe it’s not so bad for him. He thought hopefully.   
A bit hesitantly, he loosened his grip on his twin. But before he released him, he looked to him with an awfully, dreadfully, serious face.  
“Don’t run away from me so suddenly like that. Don’t run away and not tell me where you’re going!” He chastised. “I thought you were going back to Russia!”   
Italy was jabbing Ludwig in his side with his elbow. Harshly. Over and over again.  
“Stoppen…” he whispered to his partner. But Italy didn’t stop, and instead seemed to only persist. Germany knew exactly what it was he wanted and knew exactly what it was he was hinting at. But as always, Germany didn’t want to share his feelings with anyone. He stood steadfast and stubborn, his jaw set like steel.  
Seeing his partner wasn’t going to say anything, Italy quickly blurted out,  
“Ludwig has-a-the separation anxiety too!” Immediately the larger countries cheeks pinkened as he looked to his partner in horror.  
“Feliciano!”  
“Ludwig, it’ll-a-help-a them!” Italy insisted. “It’ll-a-help-a them to know someone else is going through the same-a-thing as them!”   
Germany saw his sweet boyfriends face. And he saw the concern he had for the twins written all over it. Germany agreed that it was difficult to watch. Although it seemed…as if the countries who were considered the largest and the strongest were the ones that were suffering from the aftermath of this mess the most. Perhaps because…they were shown that their strength and size meant absolutely nothing…if the ones they loved were taken from them.  
When Germany lifted his head and looked up at the group, he found everyone staring at him expectantly. He stiffened. It was not a comfortable subject to discuss. But…when he looked to the two twins…he thought…that anything he could do to help them would be worth any brief personal discomfort. And so, standing up tall and as ridged as always, he cleared his throat.  
“Ja,” he admitted. “I’ve been experiencink a smiliar panic to vhat Amerika ‘as displayed ‘ere today. Luckily for me, I ‘ave no one to hold me down, unt I am not injured, so…I can follow Italy anytime he attempts to leave my sight.”   
And simply talking about it seemed to make Germany a little bit anxious. McDonalds bag in one hand, he reached out the other, grabbing onto Italy’s wrist with more force than was necessary.   
Italy smiled at the group.   
“It’s-a-only natural considering what we’ve-a-all been through.” He said. “I say, there’s-a-nothing wrong with being afraid for a little while, ve. If we-a-get it all out, we’ll-a-heal faster.”   
America sat up while they were all talking, and for a while he was silent. But then, he held out a hand.  
“Hit me with a burger dudes…” he said. Italy smiled. Grabbing the bag out of Germany’s hand, he hurried over to the meat loving twin. As he did, he pulled away from Germany briefly. And now that it had been called to people’s attention, it was easy to see how nervous the larger country became in simply having Italy move a few feet away. All the same, he stood still, and was as stoic as always, despite widened blue eyes and clammy skin. 

Prussia looked over to his brother. Italy was tending to the twins and was busy setting things up for them on a table next to the bed. Seeing as he wouldn't be done for a few minutes Prussia decided to leave Matthew's side and check on his brother. He walked over standing in front of Germany.  
"Calm down West. Thingz are betterz now. Zoon we can all go home and you can focus on fixing the living roomz since you broke it to hell. Italy can help you with the designing. You bashed in that one wall. Maybe Italy can paint it."

Canada looked at his brother who seemed at least a little more like his old self when he asked for the hamburgers. Canada slowly sat up with his twin watching as Italy sat the food out.  
"I'm sorry Alfred. I didn't mean to scare you. Eh. I just wanted to go find Estonia. He and Lithuania were there that night, and I thought they would know more about what happened. I was only thinking about finding him. I didn't think I would scare you so bad. Arthur went to go get Estonia, so I'll just have to wait until then."   
He lay back on the bed at stared at the fast food. He had said he would eat one of the burgers, but he wished there had been pancakes and maple syrup. He stared at his hamburger in a forlorn way. He really didn't feel like eating. France had reached across America and gently placed his hand on Matthew's head.  
"Mon petit. You need to eat as well. I know dyour brothars cuisine is lacking, but you can blame that on Angleterre."   
At least that got the smaller twin to snort as he tried to stifle the laughter that bubbled up inside of him as France insulted his twin and his father's food tastes.  
"C'est bien beau papa." (It's fine papa.)  
Matthew was smiling again as he looked over at America. He was still anxious and his stomach felt like it were tied in knots over the things that had been revealed to him, but they were done. He couldn't change them, and right now he had no clue what had actually happened at Russia's those forty something years ago. Until someone was able to give him some answers he was just going to have to keep himself positive. If for nothing more than to keep Alfred from panicking about the situation. Matthew reached out towards his hamburger and picked it up off of the table opening the yellow wrapper.

“Hey!” America cried at France’s crack at his food. “My food is waaay better than Arthur’s! And considering he fed me that shit growing up, my food can be considered five stars!” He argued. And then he immediately shoved his favorite fast food burger into his mouth, and as soon as he did, he turned to face France and proceeded to try and lecture him once more.  
“Hmhmm bhmh murh mm brhm mrmm!” And just like that he seemed as if he were back to normal again. But…after his most recent display, Germany knew better. He was ok with Matthew by his side, but he imagined that if someone tried to take his twin from him again, they would just be repeating the situation from earlier.   
Russia had planted a seed. A seed of fear inside the once fearless country. And America, having never been afraid of much of anything before…had no idea how to handle it.   
Zee damage he caused goes far beyond America’s vounds… he thought in dismay. And Germany had to wonder if those hidden, internal injuries America had would ever heal. Germany wondered…because he carried so many internal wounds within himself that had never healed, that it made him into the man he currently was.   
Italy had been working at those scars for over a hundred years. Some…still hadn’t healed. And he knew…some never would.   
He prayed that wasn’t the case with America. Germany didn’t like to see any other country suffer in the ways he once had.   
He can heal it vith time, Ludwig convinced himself. He’s not like me… 

They were left in piece for a few minutes before the voices of two very agonized countries could be heard coming up the hallway.  
"Ow! Why are you doing this!" Came the high pitched voice of Estonia.  
"D'really! Its not such a bad thing! We promise!" Came Lithuania.  
"Do we really need to go in there right now? America is resting, right?" Estonia came into view first being shoved into the room. He was hunched over as Britain came into view next. A fierce look on the British gentleman's face. Britain held onto Estonia's ear lobe firmly and painfully dragged him like were a child. Then Lithuania came trailing behind. His ear also grasped in Britain's second hand. If it were different circumstances Canada would have laughed at the sight. He could remember a time when Britain had done that same move on America.

"Twas the panicking! Tis no need for panicking!" Estonia cried. Estonia's eyes bugged as he laid eyes on all of the stronger nations in the room, "Ha...ha...." He laughed nervously as Britain dragged both nations over and deposited them at the foot of America and Canada's bed.  
Britain crossed his arms standing just behind the two weaker nations. He tapped his foot on the floor his thick eyebrows lowering, "Spill it! Tell them what you told me!"

Lithuania looked back at Britain, "Dwe already told you! I-I... do we have to here..." He looked around nervously at all the super powers and trembled in place a bit as everyone in the room stared back at him with a fierce intensity and some with anger. Lithuania swallowed as he turned back to face Canada, "I-it really is funny story."  
Canada's face soured, "I am not laughing."  
Estonia shook his hands nervously, "No. No. H-he didn't mean it like that. H-he means that night is not what you think! Y-you were unconscious, yes. You wound up in bed with Russia, yes. B-but you misunderstand how you got there."  
Lithuania moved nervously at the foot of the bed, "I-I'm not surprised you do not remember.... All the drugs he put in your dinner was enough to ki-kill somebody."  
Canada's eyes widened, "H-he DRUGGED ME!?"  
Estonia reached out smacking Lithuania on the back of the head, "Y-yes, but nothing happened! Let us explain whole story."

“He did what to my little bro?” America demanded suddenly. Slowly, he put down his cheeseburger. Then, carefully, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Ignoring he instructions given to him by the nurses for God’s knows how many times that day, he got back up and onto his feet. He staggered over to the two countries, his body objecting with each step. He really didn’t care. Reaching the two, he grabbed each of them by their shirt collars, one in each hand. Glaring at them, his usual rage seeming to come back to life all over again, he barked.  
“You better have a really fucking good reason for not stopping Russia as he dragged my little bro into some bedroom after you watched him be drugged!”

Lithunia and Estonia's eyes bugged as America got up out of bed and came over grabbing on to them.  
"Dwe. Dwe. Couldn't d-do much of anything.... W-we were Russia's subordinates." Estonia said in an ashamed voice. Estonia's eyes never met with America's as he spoke.  
Lithuania was quick to jump back in to the conversation as Estonia's words died off, "Bu-but we w-were with them most of de time. N-nothing happened like that! Russia did not do anything like that. I-I was the one w-who took of Canada's clothes."  
"Oh mon dieu!" Canada cried from the bed, "I am not papa! How many people have seen me naked!?" His face flushed red as he gaped at the two trembling nations.  
Estonia's eyes stayed glued to America, and he quickly jabbed Lithuania in the ribs, "Y-you idiot! You said that in the worst possible way!"  
"A-ah!" Lithuania cried raising his hands in front of his face protectively, "I-I didn't mean anything like that!! H-he got sick! Ah! The drugs made him sick! I was just trying to help!"  
Estonia quickly jumped back into the conversation once more, "Canada was there on peace mission. He was visiting us for short time and staying overnight. Lithuania and I-I were in the kitchen when Russia came in. H-he laced Canada's food a-and served it to him. Canada fell unconscious at dinner table. He was o-out like light. Ru-Russia took him, and he just tied him up t-to chair in guest room. W-we stayed with them. We asked Russia what he was doing, a-and he said he drugged Canada t-to get information on you, Ameica.... H-he hadn't been able to get any information from Canada while he w-was normal, so he gave him the drugs. I-it worked. C-Canada w-was s-so s-so influenced he started to t-talk. Ru-Russia g-got information that way. Tha-that was all, bu-but Russia went to sleep in bed a-and C-canada was still tied up. W-we stayed wi-with him, a-and he threw u-up in middle of night."

Lithuania looked passed America and to Canada, "Y-you woke up. W-we untied you. Y-you were me-mess. I-I took your clothes off. W-we had trouble finding clothes to fit you. We gave you blanket. We only left for few minutes, b-but you were confused. Y-you wondered over to b-bed. Y-you lay down on bed with Russia, but that was it. You were unconscious again almost as soon as you lay down. Ru-russia demanded photo to use o-on America. H-he thought would be good demoralization. W-we thought photo was destroyed. W-we thought telling you would cause you more ha-harm than good."

"Y-you would have had to keep truth by yourself. W-we knew i-if we told you wh-what really happened you wou-would have no one to turn to, so we kept quiet about it. Y-you weren't hurt, a-and you would heal from poisoning." Estonia looked at Canada sadly. It may not have been the right answer, but the two nations had truly meant no harm.

"We knew if America fo-found out co-cold war would be-become hot war ve-very quickly. Y-you kept quiet about Cuba incident, and we knew yo-you would not be able to tell your brother about Ru-russia drugging you either. Sorry. W-we th-thought it would never come to light." Lithuania looked down at the floor sadly. He was obviously regretful things had happened like this.

America sighed. He was so relieved that his brother hadn’t been hurt, that he hardly cared about anything else he’d heard. He didn’t care who’d done what or why or when. He didn’t even really care that it had all been done just because Russia wanted to use his brother to upset him.   
All of it was finally over. And there was nothing left to get so worked up about.  
With another sigh, his adrenaline left his body. And when he released the two smaller countries, he collapsed to his knees on the floor in front of them, simply unable to keep his own weight up with his injuries and without the adrenaline pushing him.   
“Alfred!” Britain cried as he ran to his side.  
Alfred groaned, “Oh thank God…” he mumbled. “Thank God thank God.” He lifted his hands and rubbed his face, then slid them up and through his hair. All of a sudden, he looked exhausted…and much older than his youthful appearance ever allowed before. Reaching out two shaking hands, he grabbed a hold of Britain.  
“Help me back to bed…” he said. “I’m so tired…I can’t take this shit anymore…”

Matthew had crawled to the end of the bed. Lying on his stomach he reached down and put his hand on his brother's head. He knew he would have to talk to Lithuania and Estonia later, but at the moment he simply wanted to bask in the glory of a simple mistake that had gone horribly wrong. Everything was going to get back to normal. As he placed his hand on Alfred's golden locks Britain reached up and gently placed his hand on his arm giving him a reassuring squeeze. Matthew smiled down at his family,  
"Hey Alfred...let's go on vacation..." He tugged his brother's hair thoink for a moment, "Some place warm." Matthew felt warm arms wrap around his chest and he relaxed in his boyfriends arms. The last few weeks had been horrendously nerve-wracking and he was more than happy to put it behind him.  
Britain gently pulled America's arms over his shoulder and helped lift him up off the floor.  
"I have been telling you to rest. You need to sit in bed, drink a cup of my tea, and unwind your nerves. Now we know the truth and we can start moving on. I'm so glad you boy's are ok. I swear if you two pull one more stunt I will have a stroke. Just stay in bed and relax. I can get a wheelchair later and Prussia and I can take you and your brother outside."

Finally, finally, it seemed that America’s protective big brother switch had been flipped into the ‘off’ position. He didn’t argue and he didn’t fight. For once in his life, he just let Britain do what he wanted. Helped into bed, Alfred laid down next to his brother. And even though it was the middle of the day, with the stress finally lifted from him, he fell asleep in a heartbeat.  
Britain sighed. Reaching out, he brushed his bangs aside. Then turning to Matthew he said, “I swear you kids will be the death of me.” 

 

Chapter 27  
Back to Normal

Eventually, and inevitably, everyone became healed of their injures. The northern twins were released in another few days, and after that, everyone went home. Britain had to get back to work eventually, as did France, and the two returned to their own countries. Germany, Italy, and Prussia all headed back to Germany’s house, where Ludwig looked after his brother until his slower healing injuries disappeared.   
Still suffering from separation anxiety, he never let Italy leave his sight. But…Italy didn’t mind. As with all things, Feliciano spent his time easing Germany’s frayed nerves, and smoothing over the ruffled feathers the ordeal had caused for him.  
America and Canada returned back home as well. Only things for them were a bit more difficult than they were for Germany and Italy. They didn’t live together for one, and their bosses wanted them to come back to work once they were healed. This proved difficult considering Alfred didn’t want to leave Matthew’s side. Having gone home to his house, he hadn’t yet left. And after overstaying his welcome, he dragged poor Matthew home with him to America. They started attending one another’s business meetings…which none of the bosses liked. And it started to become problematic.   
Finally, however, several months later, all the countries were let off for summer vacation. Considering all they’d been through, they all wanted to get together once more, just to have fun and blow off some stress from work.   
America had a wonderful idea for a vacation location, and immediately suggested Puerto Vallarta, a beach resort located in Mexico. Apparently he had some ‘special surprise’ for everyone once they arrived.   
((I’m going with a different time line for our RP than the story I’m currently writing. Because the way it’s going right now, everyone would have found out in 2002. So for our story, I’ll just have it be a big secret from everyone.))  
And so, for the entire plane ride over, while Canada was going “What is it? Tell me? Tell me?” America was shaking his head going, “Hmmm….nope. Nah. Nuh-uh!” Until finally they landed.   
After collecting their baggage, the twins headed out into a taxi and made their way to the hotel they’d all be sharing. They were all scheduled to meet at the front entrance, before changing clothes and heading down to the beach to see whatever America’s big surprise was.   
Coming up to the entranceway to the hotel, America immediately spotted Germany, Italy and Prussia, who were already there and as punctual as always. Prussia, of course, ran right over to his boyfriend, throwing his arms around him in an embrace. And that left America to take in the sight of Germany and Italy.   
Both were dressed in vacation outfits, clearly picked out by Feliciano. Germany was standing tall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his chin firm and level with the ground as his blue eyes gazed out at the ocean just over the rise. He was as stoic as always but…looked a little strange in a bright green shirt with palm trees covering it, and Bermuda shorts. Alfred wasn’t used to seeing him out of uniform. And man…his skin looked stark-white in the tropical sun.  
Italy on the other hand, was so adorable, he could have been mistaken for a girl. Wearing a similar shirt to Germany’s but his being pink, and his shorts being much tighter than his partners, it was no wonder he hadn’t been picked up by some strange tourist yet. Especially with his cute little hat on.  
Then again, in looking at how intimidating Germany was…Alfred no longer wondered why Italy hadn’t been approached. The dude looked like a lion ready to pounce on anyone who dared even glance his partner’s way. He was clearly on alert for predators, so perhaps…someone had been foolish enough to try after all.   
Feliciano waved when he saw the twins arrive.  
“Ciao!” he greeted, whilst still gripping Germany’s hand. “We-a-had-a-great-a-planeride! And-a-therewas-a-this-one-a-part where we-a-hitsometurbulance! And Germania got-a-sick and we-a-hadtogototherestroom! But-a-hewasasobigIcouldn’tfitinside withhim-a-and and-an-and-!” But Italy was talking so quickly at that point that America simply couldn’t keep up. Laughing, he raised his hands to defend himself from the barrage of words.  
“Ok dude! You’re excited, I get it!”   
But it was then that another cab pulled up to the curb. And when it did, America turned to face it, his heart beating just a little bit quicker. He was hoping it was his parents. Ever since the Russia incident, he appreciated them a lot more than he used to. Actually…I appreciate everyone a lot more than I used to… he thought truthfully. As horrific as the ordeal was, it seemed to have brought all of the countries closer together. After surviving such a nightmare, it was no wonder. It really illustrated how much they needed one another. And ever since Russia’s, America couldn’t help but to remember all the other times his dad’s had been there for him, and all the things they’d done to help him over his two hundred year history.   
And so, when he saw Britain and France getting out of the car, already bickering and fighting as usual, a wide smile spread over his face.   
“Mom!” He cried. And just like that, he was running toward Britain, looking a lot like a freight train that could possibly run over the smaller European nation. 

“Gyahh!” Britain cried as he turned and saw his older son barreling towards him. America had done this more than once during his lifetime, but it had been much easier when America had been a child. In fact when the nation had been little it had been endearing. Britain had told America on more than one occasion that he was now too big to do this. Unfortunately, America was such a kid at heart. In moments of excitement like this he could forget that he was a superpower and hit like a brick house.   
Not that Britain minded America’s power hugs or that the tackling hurt him. The situation was simply humiliating to the English gentleman. Britain raised his hands into the air for some type of defense against his oncoming son.  
“America! Wait! S-Stop!”   
The protest fell on deaf ears as it always had. America slammed into his shorter father and wrapped his arms under Britain’s outstretched arms and around Britain’s chest. Britain was a little less than enthusiastic to receive the fierce hug. The red in Britain’s cheeks soon enveloped his entire face as America stood up straight and leaned back. The action caused Britain’s feet to leave the ground. Britain kicked his feet in the air as his eyes blanched. Unable to reach the ground Britain was forced to endure while his son squeezed him.   
“Put me down! America! This is highly undignified!”  
Despite his protests Britain was glad to see his son acting like his old self. After the horrible time they had in Russia he had never wanted to leave his sons. It was an impossible dream, and he had been forced to leave both of his sons to go home and work. He had been forced to work continually over the past few months to make up for lost time. This was the first time he’d actually seen America or Canada since they had all left Estonia. He was glad to see both of his sons smiling, and he was glad to see the spark back in America’s eyes.   
All of the things that had been done to both of his sons in Russia had haunted him over the past few months. He’d had plenty of nightmares about the states in which he’d found America and Canada, and he had played off more than one late night call as accidental when he had wanted to casually check in on his sons. He was just glad to see America and Canada back in their normal spirits. Despite all his protests to the current situation he reached out wrapping his arms around America’s neck and gave his son a firm, loving squeeze. The father, son moment was brief. America soon began swinging Britain from side to side like he was a stuffed animal, and a vein popped to life in Britain’s head.  
“That is quite enough of your tomfoolery! Put me down this instant!” Britain demanded.  
Canada came walking over with Prussia’s arm over his shoulder. He smiled at Britain who was busy with America. Then he moved to France.  
“Bonjour Papa.”  
France came forward enveloping both Canada and Prussia.  
“Bonjour mon petit Matthieu et Gilbert! C'est bon de vous voir. (Hello my little Matthew and Gilbert. It is good to see you.)” Then he flew around the two and went to hug Italy.   
Canada stayed back while Britain tried to get free of America’s steel arms. A smile tugged at his lips as he leaned against Prussia’s side enjoying the warm embrace.  
“Alfred. You promised to tell me what this surprise was!” Canada kept his eyes on his brother. After having this ‘surprise’ dangled over his head since before they had left his brother’s home, Canada was growing impatient to know what his brother was so excited to tell everyone. That’s when Matthew felt a strange tickle in his sinuses. He barely had time to raise his hands to his face and cover his mouth before he coughed into his hand. He felt another odd sensation that lead to a sniffle, but after a moment it passed. Prussia was immediately asking if he was ok, and Matthew waved off his worried boyfriend.  
“It’s nothing. I just got something caught in my throat.” Matthew looked back at his brother, “Come on. What’s the surprise, Alfred!!”

France, running toward Italy, was a horrible idea. Germany was clearly still on sentinel mode, and as soon as he saw the perverted country racing toward his lover, arms outstretched, he reacted instinctually. Reaching out, before France ever reached his target, his larger German hand fell down on the French man’s face. Pressing back against him, all France could do was stretch his arms outward, swinging them wildly toward his target who was now only inches away. Germany glowered.  
“You’re not to touch mein Italy durink dis entire trip! Do you hear me?” He demanded. And Italy, although true that he was indeed trying to loosen Germany up a bit since the Russia incident, still absolutely loved it when he acted possessive of him.   
“Ve!” He cried with delight, both hands flying to his cheeks.   
“Non!” France objected in dismay. “He’s so cute! I simply must touch him!” Germany’s glower grew even stonier, his blue eyes cold. Slowly, he started to increase his grip.  
“I vill crush your face!”  
“Aieee!” France cried. 

But over by the cab, away from the commotion, America finally released Britain, not wanting to permanently injure him, just maybe…rough him up a bit. Grinning from ear to ear, he slapped the smaller nation across the back.  
“Good to see ya mom!” And then, hearing Canada’s question, his grin only grew.  
“I told you! The surprise is at the beach! We should all get changed into our swim trunks and head down there so we can all swim together! We need to get some alcohol into Ludwig too, so he loosens up! Look at him, he’s wound up tighter than a steel drum!”   
Gesturing, everyone looked over to find Germany going a little bit overboard on poor France who’d been forced to his knees by the pressure being exhibited on his face. The fun over, Italy was now hanging on Germany’s arm, trying to get him to release his iron grip.  
“Ludwig! It’s-a-ok! It’s-a-ok now. He just-a-wanted to say hello,” he explained. The chiseled nation hesitated, but after looking to his partner’s expression…he finally let France’s face go.   
“Aiee! My beautiful face!” And indeed, there was now a large, red, handprint covering the entirety of France’s features. 

Britain walked over to his brother. A grin on his face.  
"Serves you right."  
He said to the sobbing nation who was over dramatically clinging to his face, "Come along chap. Let's go get changed so we can see what this surprise is." He grabbed France by the back of his shirt and started to drag him off towards the hotel. A moment later Canada grabbed Prussia's hand and started to drag him off towards the hotel as well. As they started up in the elevator another cough hit him, and this time Prussia gave him a look of concern. Once more the Northern twin blew off Prussia's look and instead stared at his brother.  
"Did you get a new boat?" He took a stab at what the surprise could be.  
“Nope! It’s not a boat!” America cried, clearly pleased about his game of ‘guess what.’  
Seeing as his boyfriend had abandoned him Prussia turned to his own brother and Italy. He reached out throwing his arm around Italy. Grasping his shoulder he hugged him close so he could speak to him. Perhaps the only nation in the world Germany wouldn't kill for doing such a thing. It wasn't odd for Prussia to do such a thing since they'd all lived together for so long.  
"Italy when we get down to the beach you need to start a plan to pull ztick out of mud immediately. West looks like he iz going to hav 'unt aneurism." Prussia took his hand off of Italy's shoulder and reached up grabbing onto Germany's shoulder, "Relax. Iz vacation. We finally have vacation!" Prussia's smile beamed as he said the words, "No boring business meetings. Nobody to tell you about deadlines. Just fun!"

“Si!” Italy agreed, to all that Prussia had said. Looking over to Germany, his heart warmed. He knew he could get him to loosen up. A few minutes in their hotel room would be enough. “Germania, when-a-we get to the beach, will you come-a-swimming with me?”  
Ludwig, turning his attention toward Italy, looked to his adorable face. He could never say no to him, not matter what it was he was requesting.  
“Ja,” he agreed. “If you go svimmink, I’ll have to come to make sure you don’t drown…” Feliciano giggled. 

Everyone divided up into their own rooms once off the elevator. Changing in the bathrooms and in the privacy of their hotel spaces, it took a few minutes for everyone to get ready. Some took more time than others.   
America of course was waiting in the hallway impatiently, being one of the first out. Canada and Prussia come out next. Then, France and Britain…who of course had an entire beach bag, full of things like sun tan lotion, water, bug spray, towels, and even baggies full of crackers “for the boys,” Britain claimed.   
Then everyone was waiting on Germany and Italy, who were oddly, the last ones out. Germany was always prompt, so it was strange for them to be last. But of course, Prussia knew what was going on, since he’d given Italy a mission. As such, everyone was made to wait another ten minutes or so. But then, finally, the pair emerged, changed and appearing ready to go. Italy was carrying some floaties with him, while Germany had the towels. Germany appeared…a lot less stressed then he was before, a great color in his face.   
“Ok, is everyvone ready to go?” He asked the group.

Canada was happily wrapped up in Prussia’s arms. The ex-nation was standing behind his boyfriend and had his chin resting on Matthew’s shoulder when Germany and Italy came out into the hallway. Prussia smiled brightly at them, but he didn’t say anything.  
Britain looked to his older son.  
“Lead the way America. Let’s see what this surprise of yours is. I swear if it is some new superhero you’ve created I do not want any part of it.”  
Canada laughed at the idea of a new American super hero.  
“I think it’s something else.” He said as they climbed back onto the elevator, “I just can’t think of it.” He looked over at his brother who was grinning from ear to ear. He had already guessed everything. What else could it be? As the elevator lowered to the bottom floor and everyone slowly climbed off the gears in Matthew’s head were still turning.  
“Maybe a new water gun? Hey Alfred. We buried mom in sand. Let’s wait for France to drink a bit and then bury him in sand.” The Northern twin smiled at the idea as they walked out of the hotel and onto the sandy beach. Prussia seemed all for burying his friend.  
“I think that is a great idea Matthew! We should bury Francis. Right after unawezome’s zurprize.” Canada looked around the beach. He saw people, but he never saw anything drastically out of place. Anything that just screamed I’m America’s surprise. I’m right here!

America was oddly quiet about the entire thing, which of course wasn’t usually his style. But once they got to the beach, it looked like his cheeks may burst from the strength of his grin. Out in the sun on the tourist beach, the water before them a crystal blue, and with a gentle breeze blowing, the day couldn’t get any more beautiful.   
Stepping forward and past all of his friends, America’s flip-flops moved through the white sands. At first it was hard to tell where he was going, or where he was heading, but then, one of the people in the crowd before him turned around to face them.  
It was a woman. With mocha colored skin, and long, wavy chocolate hair, there was no doubt that she was beautiful and exotic. Wearing a bright green bathing suit and a white cover wrap around her legs, her eyes crinkled in delight when she saw America. They clearly knew one another.   
“Alfred!” She cried. And nearly everyone in the group gaped when she started to run to him. They would have been equally shocked when Alfred opened his arms to her to receive her. Then they came together in a happy embrace American lifting her up and spinning her around just once. Then, after putting her back down on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned in for a kiss.   
After a quick greeting, he pulled back, then faced his shocked family. And in looking at their faces, he had to laugh out loud.   
“Haha! Look at all of you dudes! Haha! Britain especially!” Still laughing, be pointed a finger at his loved ones.  
“Alfred! Dat’s rude!” The woman said to him. “Dis es jour family! Introduce me properly, and be nice!” Still laughing, but starting to calm down some, he looked from the woman in his arms and back to his family.  
“Ah, ok. I guess I’ll tease them later.” Arm around her, America stepped forward with his apparent girlfriend. “Guys, this is my surprise. This is Mexico, her human name’s Maria. We’ve been dating since 1994.”

Britain was so shocked with the revelation that he dropped his beach bag onto the sand, spilling out the water bottles and sun tan lotion. His mouth hung open.  
Matthew stared from Prussia's arms. He had met Mexico before but the occasions had been brief and far apart. He had never suspected this kind of secret from his brother. It seemed amazing that Alfred could keep a secret for that long.  
That's when Britain took a step forward, "1-1-19-19-1994!? Since 1994!? How the bollucks-!"  
France ran by his stuttering brother and went to stand in front of Mexica, "Hon, Hon, Hon! 'ello." He reached out taking Mexico's hand in his own and then raised it to his lips to kiss the back of her hand.  
Matthew came forward then looked at his brother, "And you were mad I kept my relationship with Gilbert from you." He huffed looking away from his brother.  
"Way to go unawezome!" Prussia reached over Matthew playfully punching America in the shoulder, "Who da thunk you'z could getz zuch a pretty lady!"

America smiled widely and brightly, but also knew, of course, that at least some of his family members had been insulted by the very long, drawn out secret he’d kept.   
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “We uh…it was kinda rough at first, so we didn’t want anyone knowing. Then there was this huge debacle with Cuba and he uh…kinda got crazy jealous and wanted to kill us. And then uh…well September Eleventh happened and…it just never seemed like the right time,” he explained. “But, here we are!”   
Turning to France, he gave the man a firm slap across his back. “Told ya I wasn’t missing out! Hahaha!”   
“Es my fault too,” Maria said. “I ask him not to tell. I was having a lot of problems in my country. And uh…we took a break for a while en da beginning of de new century.” America shrugged, trying to brush it off. Clearly the couple had their fair share of problems, which had probably been a major reason he hadn’t told anyone.  
“Besides…I knew mom would act like that!” Alfred said, gesturing to Britain. “Close your mouth! Yes! I am capable of human compassion!”   
But before Britain could really respond, France’s face rose up between the two from behind. Leaning in, and putting an arm around each of them, he grinned in his usual perverted manner.  
“I knew it!” He said. “I knew you ‘ad a secret sex life! I knew there was no way you were as straight a shootair as you were pretending! Oui! Mon cheri! You two do nasty things togethair, oui? Tell me! Tell me all about it!”   
America rolled his eyes, then quickly shrugged out from underneath France’s arm. Quickly he shoved the other nation away.  
“And I knew that France would act like that!”

Canada couldn't help but laugh, but before the laugh was over it transformed into a fit of coughing that seemed unnatural for a healthy country. Seeing as this had happened once in the presence of the others, but also when the two had been alone in their hotel room Prussia was becoming a bit more concerned for his boyfriend. The albino shot a disgruntled look at his boyfriend and was about to ask if he were ok, but once again Canada waved him off as he wiped at his nose.  
Prussia's disgruntled look turned into a frown, "Zu need to stop doing, zhat."  
Canada finally stopped coughing and stepped back from his brother and looked at his boyfriend, "I told you I am fine. Something is in my throat."  
Prussia was about to make a rebuttal, but he was suddenly shoved aside by a raging Englishman. Prussia went careening into Canada and before either knew what had happened Prussia was lying on top of Canada in the sand.

Britain waved an unhappy finger in his son's face, "Y-y-you!" He fumed as he continued to wave that unhappy lecturing finger, "Didn't you see how mad I was at your brother for keeping secrets! H-he had a legitimate reason too! Y-you have been hiding this for 18 years!! What is wrong with you boys?" Then in another second Britain was ranting.  
Prussia hadn't moved from his spot where he was keeping Canada pinned against the white sand, for once he wasn't trying to be dirty about the positions they had found themselves in either. It was just that since he was so close to his boyfriend he had looked into Matthew's eyes and noticed that they were a bit red and puffy. He also noticed a red hue in Canada's cheeks. He thought it may have been a blush from embarrassment, but Canada didn't look embarrassed he looked like he was coming down with something. Prussia leaned down kissing his boyfriend on his forehead. He was a bit relieved that Matthew didn't feel warm in anyway, so when he pulled back he simply asked again.  
"Are you zure your ok?"  
Canada smiled up at his boyfriend, "I promise. I'm OK."  
With a heavy sigh Prussia slowly stood up and then helped Canada to his feet as well. He held onto his boyfriend's hand. Silently Canada was starting to get a little worried too. His energy was fading and he felt an uncalled for headache coming on. Pushing those things aside he smiled back at his brother, "I'm happy for you, Al."

America, as protective as he had been over his brother, normally would have noticed his coughing, and his oncoming cold immediately. In fact, with all that had happened between them, America would have probably fussed over-excessively and it would have inflamed the fear that he’d developed over him ever since the Russian incident.   
But with his hands full with Mexico, and now France and Britain, he hadn’t the time. At the moment, he was trying to fend off Arthur, who truly appeared hurt by his well kept secret.  
“No good reason?” Alfred cried. “I just told you! We had to keep it a secret so that Cuba wouldn’t find out about us! He was crazy in the nineties! Well…he kinda found out anyway. And we were right about keeping it a secret because he tried to fucking kill both of us! And by the time all that settled down we had September Eleventh. And we...uh…kinda took a break after that…”  
And suddenly, Alfred was looking uncomfortable. September Eleventh was one of those touchy subjects he never spoke about to begin with, but now it seemed like it was coupled together with some sort of break-up between him and Mexico.   
“So if it makes you feel any better, we only got back together recently,” he said.   
But even as he was explaining everything to Britain, France was busy. As always, his hands and eyes wandered. Only a second of being unsupervised led his grubby hands toward Maria’s plump rump. There was a quick unsolicited squeeze, a shriek from America’s girlfriend, and then a harsh, violent CRACK as America’s fist came down on top of his father’s head.  
“I told you dude…I warned you. If you touch her again, you’ll be unconscious for the rest of this vacation.”

"Oh America. You can't expect much more from him. He's been like that since he was born. He did have those wonder years during the musketeer era-"  
"'ey!" France cried from his place in the sand, "T'at is not rig't! I was only saying 'ello!"  
Rolling his eyes up towards the sky Britain moved away from America. He went to Mexico a genuine smile on his face. Despite all the lecturing he was happy his son had found such a thing as love. He was happy for both of his son's actually. They had both been dealt horrid hands lately, and they had both pulled through. He was proud of them.  
Still Alfred needed to be taught a lesson about keeping secrets. The island nation reached out waiting for Mexico to reach out her hand. When she did Arthur took her hand in his own and gently patted it. He smiled at the younger nation.  
"I will say, love. I never imagined any woman would be able to stand my son's outlandish imagination or his-" Britain paused as he thought of what to say next. He shot America a distasteful look as he finally settled on the words, " ...youthful spirit." Still holding her hand, Britain gently started to lead Mexico away from America. He smiled at America's girlfriend as he walked away. He shot a look back over his shoulder as they moved away. A look that silently said 'I will show you to keep secrets'. Then he turned back to Mexico with a smile on his face,  
"Let us set up the beach chairs. I have so many fun stories about Alfred I can tell you. Like when he was a wee lad! He used to be the cutest little lad. He had a lot of strange ideas though. In fact once he took his brother out into the woods behind our home and got horribly lost. That's not the whole story though. I'll tell you from the beginning."  
Canada and Prussia had come over to America. Canada watched their father walk away with Mexico.  
"I'm glad he never did that with Prussia."   
Prussia snickered.  
"Zhat may not be az true as du think, Birdie." Matthew whirled around on Prussia. His eyes wide.  
"E-eh. Wh-when did Britain talk to you?" Prussia snickered.  
"Du no need to worry. Iz waz a fun conversation. I never knew you cried when America stole d'our polar bear."  
Matthew's cheeks caught fire at those memories. They were embarrassing, but even so they were nostalgic. He assumed it was a parent’s right to share such humiliating stories, but he didn't have to like it. Cheeks burning he turned back to his twin. A smile on his face.  
"Maybe you should have waited on telling those two." Canada suddenly noticed that France had vanished. He blinked and then looked around for his first father, "Papa?" Then he found France sneaking back towards Mexico and Britain who were still talking. "Papa! Arrête ça! (stop that!)  
A grin suddenly spread over Prussia's face. He moved away from the twins waving as he ran.  
"I gotz thiz, unawesome!"   
A few minutes later he was tackling France and attempting to pin him to the sand and bury him. Unfortunately France was putting up a fight and soon the two were wrestling, "W-west! Hilfe! (Help)" Prussia yelled as he picked up a hand full of sand and put it in France's hair.  
Canada laughed.  
"Alfred. Let's help Prussia, eh? Then you can do what you want without worrying about papa for the rest of the day."

Oh, and America agreed whole heartedly. A large, uncontrolled grin overtook his face at the idea.  
“Awesome!” He wasted no time racing forward. With his brother at his side, and Prussia, who’d become a rather great friend, the three teamed up on poor France. “I’ve got em! You guys bury! Quick!” And holding a thrashing French man down with his strong hands, quickly Canada and Prussia got to work tossing sand on top of Francis.  
“Aie! It’s in my eye! You got la sand in my eye!”   
“Serves you right for groping my girlfriend!” But of course, it was all in good natured fun.  
Out by the beach blankets, Maria was helping Arthur set up the umbrellas. She loved hearing embarrassing stories about Alfred when he was young. What girlfriend didn’t?   
“But Britain,” she said, interrupting him. “What really ‘as changed at all? Everything jou describe esounds exactly like Alfred as an adult.” And of course, it was then that Britain and Mexico looked over to see what all the commotion was. And what they found was a group of rambunctious boys, burying their father in the sand. Maria giggled.  
“Jou see? He’s estill nothing but a boy.” She looked to her boyfriend’s father, her dark eyes shining. “Es nice of jou to warn me, but I’m afraid I already know how grotesquely immature he es.” All the same, despite what sounded like it could have been insults, it was clear to see that this boyishness Mexico described was actually one of the many reasons she loved America to begin with. 

Britain watched Mexico stare off at America. He was happy for his son, and he was glad that Mexico was able to appreciate Alfred for all that he was. Any father was glad to see his children happy, and when he saw his brother buried he smirked.   
"Make sure he's good and buried kids!"  
Prussia was sticking a twig on the top of the mound that was France.  
"Ze awezome me haz conquered zu." Matthew was laughing beside Prussia when he broke out coughing once more. This time snot ran from his nose, and he hopped up to go grab a tissue from his bag.  
He ran to where Britain and Mexico were and started looking through his bag for a tissue. Just as he managed to find one and wiped his nose he sneezed again. What was once a simple sneeze was quickly becoming more and more of a cold.   
It was Britain who took notice since Matthew was standing beside him. He walked over to the younger twin and looked him over.  
"You look a bit under the weather. Are you all right?"  
Matthew nodded his head as he sneezed once more.  
"Y-yeah. I am ok." Matthew tried to wave off his father, but Britain was harder to get rid of. All the events of the past few months had caused Britain to be attentive to his sons. Britain marched over to his son and grabbed him by his shoulder. Then he stared into Matthew's blood shot eyes.  
"You don't look all right. Matthew, you look like your catching a cold." Britain raised his hand up and placed it on his younger son's head, "You feel warm. Maybe you sould sit down."  
Matthew was starting to feel tired and his eyes were starting to water and his nose was starting to run. He wanted to disagree with Britain, but sleeping in a beach chair was sounding wonderful. With a silent nod he headed for the beach chair with Britain following him all the way.

And of course, now, with France out of the way, and Mexico currently speaking with someone else, America took notice of his brother’s condition immediately. Getting up from his spot in the sand, he marched over to the beach chair where his little brother had lain down.   
“Bro! Are you not feeling so great?” Kneeling in the sand beside him, he leaned over him, looking him over. He indeed looked a little bit pale, and his nose was running. “You shouldn’t be sneezing on a Mexican beach in summer bro.” And then he reached out a hand and gently placed it on his forehead. Canada felt warm, although not alarmingly so. All the same, America didn’t react well.  
“Matt! You’re warm!” Immediately, he reached out, forcing him to sit up. “Come on man! We gotta get you inside into bed! We…we need to get fluids into you! You shouldn’t be out on a beach! Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” His blue eyes filled with worry. “Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you bro? I can if you need me to!”   
Mexico watched the entire scene unfold before her, her dark eyes saddening at America’s overreaction to his little brothers slight cold. She knew perfectly well why he was reacting in such an excessive way, and it hurt her to see. Although Alfred hadn’t told her everything that had happened, in order to not disturb her too greatly, he had told her all of the basics of his ordeal with Russia. She knew about future America, the plot to take over both Canada and America, and Russia’s insane kidnapping spree where he ended up with over four countries in his ice prison.   
She also knew Alfred had been hurt terribly in his attempts to protect and save his little brother, who he’d been convinced would suffer and die under Russia’s hand. He never spoke of it…but Mexico had been there just after the New Year…when he’d suffered endless nightmares, crying out in his sleep in the dead of the cold winter nights. She’d held him in the lifeless hours of the morning, and she’d felt him tremble.  
Maria knew how overprotective he’d become of Matthew. And as unnecessary as his worry and fear was…she knew it was something he simply had to work through. Telling him there was nothing to worry about wouldn’t help. All she could really do was support him. And so, she stepped forward, and offered Matthew a smile.  
“We could all go rest together,” she suggested. 

Matthew raised his Kleenex holding hand to his nose as he sneezed again. Then he raised his finger telling Alfred to wait. After his sneezing ended he turned to his brother.  
"It really just came on all of the sudden, Alfred. I'm sure it's nothing. I don't need to go inside. Look-" Canada pointed to his boyfriend who was jumping up and down on the sand mound that was France. "He's having so much fun. I can't ruin that, and I don't want to. I'll just stay here and rest for a little while. Mexico can you please take my brother and go swimming. You love the beach Alfred. Go swim." He put his hand into the air and waved his brother off, and then he started sneezing once again. Britain sighed pulling his chair up beside his son.  
"I can watch him America. I'll call you if we need you for anything. I wasn't planning on swimming today." Britain said as he sat down in his chair. 

But America didn’t look convinced.   
“Swimming? Dudes! We can’t possibly go swimming! We need to check the news and make sure Canada’s country is ok! Wh…what if something’s happening? Are…are we expecting any hurricanes? Wait…bro…you don’t usually get those, with it being so cold and all in your country. Avalanches maybe? Earthquakes? R…R…Russia’s not…not anywhere near our hemisphere right now, right?”  
And Alfred’s stutter when it came to Russia’s name didn’t get by Britain, Canada or Mexico. The ice country made him clearly nervous in a way he never had before the incident in December. And sometimes, it was hard to known that America’s unshakable confidence had been knocked down a notch.  
He’ll be fine, Mexico told herself. He jus’ needs some more time.   
“Does anyone ‘ave a phone wid internet access?” She asked. “We could look something like that up.” She knew perfectly well that America wouldn’t settle down until they were absolutely certain his brother was ok. 

Canada fished around in his pocket looking for his cell phone.  
"I left my phone in the hotel room. It's in my jacket pocket. I should go get it."  
Britain fished around in his beach bag and handed his phone over to his son.  
"You can use mine."   
Canada accepted the device gratefully and then dialed his own phone number. It was only a moment later when he entered his security code and an automated voice told him that he had 12 new messages. It made his eyes widen, but he pressed the phone to his ear and tried to keep his brother from listening in on the conversation when Matthew realized his boss was frantically leaving him messages. He'd left his phone only thirty minutes ago, and his boss sounded panicked. His boss knew he was on vacation so it had to be important. Plus his boss was asking for Canada to call him back immediately. Canada scooted to the edge of the chair and slowly stood up.  
"I need to make a call. I will be right back."

“W…wait!” America rose to his feet and went to follow his brother, a panicked look coming across his features. Immediately, Mexico was on it. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his waist, halting him.   
“Alfred, don’t!” She said. Leaning in, she placed her lips near his ear in order to speak more softly, so as not to alert his friends to his fragile emotional situation. “Es ok…” she whispered gently. “Jour bruder jus’ went to make a phone call to find out what’s happened. Dat’s all. He’s jus’ a little under de weather. If it was something more serious, it wouldn’t be jus’ a cold. Alright?”   
But even from behind him, she could see how afraid he was, and even though she’d seen him go through this many times since December, it never made it easier on her. She remembered days when Alfred had once been carefree, not a single worry on his mind. A lot of that had changed on September Eleventh, and now…now this.   
Damn jou Russia… she thought woefully. Damn jou for ‘urting my Alfred so deeply…   
America didn’t answer her, but he didn’t go after Canada again either. As worried and over protective as he’d become concerning his brother, it had been several months since his imprisonment at Russia’s, and he was starting to recognize that he would have to figure out how to let Matt go from time to time.  
“Ok…” he said softly. “Ok…it’s just a cold…” he mumbled. Standing up straight, Mexico released him. Then, walking around to his front, she reached out, wrapping both mocha hands around his shoulders. She offered him a warm smile.  
“Shall we distract jou until he returns? Why don’t we go to de snack shack over dere and get jou one of dos enchiladas jou like eso much, si?”   
Alfred looked to Maria. Even through her sweet smile, he saw the concern on her pretty face. He didn’t like to worry her. And it felt like he’d been doing that a lot lately. And so, being brave, and suppressing his urge to race after his brother and attach himself to his side, he nodded.  
“Ok,” he agreed. “Let’s bring Britain back one, with extra spice. Let’s watch him shot flames from his mouth. He can’t handle any type of spice or flavor.”  
Maria giggled glad to see him able to joke around and back into somewhat good spirits. But she knew he’d secretly be worried until Canada returned. Reaching out, she took his hand.   
“Let’s get jour papa a nice spicy treat.” Then the pair started off across the white sands.

Canada walked back towards the hotel leaving his friends and family behind. He was half way back when he dialed his boss. It didn't take a long time for Canada to finally get through to his frantic boss who was panicking. It didn't take long to find out what had caused his cold either. It also became apparent that Alfred was going to have a conniption when he found out what was going on. As such Matthew sat in the lobby until his patient-less boyfriend came to find him. Still wearing his white swim trunks with the Prussian bird on the front the ex nation ran over to Matthew who was sitting in a chair staring off into space. The two conversed for a moment when they started back toward the beach.  
With a heavy sigh Matthew looked at his family. He walked over to the lawn chair and sat down beside Britain and faced his father.  
"Really, I don't want him to worry." Were the first words out of his mouth. It was quite away to start the conversation and immediately caused Britain to turn and face his son. He was obviously prepared for the worst, but his son looked like he was trying to be reassuring.  
"I have to go to an emergency meeting. There was some kind of issue with some trade tariffs and regulations, but it's not that big a deal. I just have to go to the meeting to resolve the issues."  
"I gathered that if it were bad enough to give you the sniffles then you may have to go back. Who are you meeting with?" Matthew's face crinkled up as an uncomfortable look came over his face. It wasn't the worst case scenario.  
"...China.... I think it will be fine. I know Russia is not supposed to be there." Britain frowned at the announcement. He wasn't happy about it, but Canada was right. It could have been far worse.

It was then that America and Mexico arrived with some Mexican treats in their hands. America of course had one for himself, and another for Britain. But when he looked up and saw Matthew, he hurried forward.   
“Matt!” he called. Kicking up sand, and leaving his poor girlfriend behind, he ran the rest of the way to the beach blankets. Reaching his destination, he immediately stood next to his brother. Still holding both snacks he said,  
“What’s the deal yo? Is everyone in Canada ok?” 

Matthew turned to face his brother. He did not want to panic America, but he did have to be honest about what was happening,  
"I don't want you to panic, but I have to go back to my country for a meeting. There's some kind of issue with a trade tariff, and shipping regulations and it's holding up exported goods. It's nothing major. I just have to be there to sign off on some paper work. So I want you to stay here and relax, but I need to tell you the meeting is with China."

“China!” America exclaimed. “No! No way! No fucking way! There is no way in hell I’m going to let you go sign some agreement with that asshole! Did you forget? He was in league with Russia and North Korea! He was there! He was there at that damned ice hell!”  
And it was clear for all to see how upset Alfred really was, but it was also easy to see how irrational he was being. Matthew had to do what was best for his country, and for himself for that matter, and that at the moment was to fix the trade snafu he’d hit. All he was going to do was sign some papers and it would be over with. He was flying in to do such a thing at one of his government’s buildings. There would be plenty of protection around.  
And so, Canada and Britain alike carefully explained these things to America. He couldn’t argue against it. As a country persona, he knew perfectly well what the responsibilities entailed.   
He did at least, start to feel a little better when Canada reminded him that China hadn’t hurt anyone at Russia’s house, and in fact, had done the complete opposite. He’d helped Canada stay alive, and then was the one to bring him to the hospital.  
“Fine!” he eventually agreed. “But I’m coming with you!” And of course, this made Mexico at least, very sad. She wouldn’t be able to go with him, and the entire vacation they had planned together was instantly ruined. Now he’d be flying off with his brother, and she knew exactly what that meant for Alfred. He’d be fussing and worrying and stressing about every little thing. He could hardly help it. After all…Russia had planted a seed of terror in him that could never be erased. At least…not for a very long time. Her only hope for him was that because they were countries and they lived so very long, that one day, he would loosen his hold on his little brother.   
He was a little bit already. So perhaps, in another fifty years or so, they could go back to having a normal relationship, instead of one built on the fear of losing one another. 

On the plane back to Canada the younger brother continued to sneeze like he had caught a summer cold. But thankfully, Canada's condition did not deteriorate further. It seemed the trade snafu wasn't going to get any worse. With America seated next to him, Canada found himself on the phone a lot as they flew over his brother's country to reach his. Canada was reading through a massive amount of paperwork which proved to be much harder with America in his ear every five minutes trying to read over his shoulder. It was slowly driving him mad. However Matthew had a lifetime of practice ignoring America when he needed to. Which is just what he did.   
He got through all of his documents by the time he started the drive to his parliament building. He spent his time reassuring his brother that the walls were not out to get him. He also made sure to tell America that Russia was not in his country. It was China who had sent explicit instructions that if America wanted to come he could. That in itself was a good thing, China could have easily forbidden America from the meeting. It was sensitive things they had to talk about after all. They had nothing to do with America. He had no business being there. Still the ancient nation seemed to understand America's plight. He was relaxing in a chair when the North American twins came into the room. Canada trying to keep his brother behind him.  
"Ei-ya. I thought you got lost. Everything fall apart quickly."  
"Sorry. The plane ride back took longer than expected." Canada walked to his seat. He'd made America promise to just be a silent observer as he sat down in a seat next to him. He didn't expect that to last long, but he wanted to get this meeting over with as soon as possible. He hoped America could stay calm for the amount of time he needed.   
Canada was not excited by China's presence since he did have ties to Russia and North Korea, but China had helped him. That was something he had never thanked the other nation for. So as he took his seat with a hand full of papers to read over he looked up at the oriental nation.  
"Thank you for helping me to the hospital that day. You didn't have to, and I appreciate it."  
China continued to stare across the table at the two brothers.  
"They go too far. That was not supposed to be point of meeting."  
America tensed in his chair. He’d promised his brother not to say anything, but it was hard. He certainly wouldn’t have called what happened to him and all his friends and family a ‘meeting.’ Kidnapping perhaps. Imprisonment. Even torture. But certainly not ‘a meeting.’   
All the same, somehow, someway, he kept silent. He may not have been very good at self-restraint, but he respected the fact that he was currently in Canada at a Canadian meeting. This was his brother’s battle. So he would let him deal with it as he saw fit.   
Matthew shuffled through his papers signing off on a new trade agreement his boss had approved. It already had China's signature on it. Matthew stopped signing for a moment and looked back to China.   
He had to admit that Russia's original plan still eluded him. They had never been told by future America, and Russia had never explained his motives. It seemed that all Russia had accomplished was the agony of several different countries personifications. Even if they had all individually suffered, their countries hadn't.   
Canada thought then of his boyfriend and how scary that had been. Prussia had the longest recovery time, and Canada had thanked Alfred every day that he had protected Prussia and kept him as safe as he had.   
And so, when the opportunity presented to Matthew, that he could now perhaps ask China what Russia’s goals were, Canada quickly jumped at any hint of what Russia had tried to accomplish.  
"What was the original point of this so called meeting? Why take Italy and take such a backhanded way to talk to me."  
Again America cringed in his seat. ‘Talk’ was another really nice word that he disapproved of. All of this chatter about ‘talking’ and ‘meetings’ grated on his nerves. It felt like glass on a chalkboard. But again…he bit his tongue. He’d promised Matthew. Besides, he wanted to hear what China would say.   
"I had nothing do with Italy,” the older country said. “I rather we just call you directly. Russia was up to something that he no tell me or North Korea about. Italy was taken before I come with North Korea. Original meeting was..." Then his eyes filtered over to America, "Something you no like. Further trade agreement. Further alliances." China shrugged his shoulders, "Still may come to pass that we deal with each other more." It was true that no matter how much any of them suffered they still had to do what was best for their country. That never changed. Hence why Canada had come to sign all of these documents and meet with China. If he didn't it was his country that would suffer.  
China let out a heavy sigh, "They make it difficult. I want to expand alliances. You used to be actively looking for new allies Canada. With your isolationism I think maybe you be good country to get to know better. Russia also want to become more involved with your country, Canada. Hoping that with all your history as of late he drive wedge further between you two. Maybe if he get closer to you Canada it make America appear weaker."   
China turned to look at both North American twins. Perhaps the worst part of all that speech was that Russia had driven a wedge between the two brothers. Twice. In that future timeline, that would not come to pass. In the doubt he had shoved into Alfred's mind about his brother's betrayal, he had managed to kill them both in some other place and time. He had made America truly doubt his brother's love. No rift was bigger than what Russia had caused. Canada didn't make a sound as he glared down at his paper work and continued to sign away.   
China looked between the two twins then commented on what he had observed over the past few months.  
"You two get along better lately. All world see it. I simply want to approach calm country about expanding our friendship. They burn many bridge. I have not seen them since I left Russia."

America could have said a lot. He really could have. But something told him not to. He knew exactly how angry he was, and how hurt. His physical wounds from what he suffered under Russia’s hand had all healed…but there were plenty of other’s that hadn’t. Although he didn’t talk about it much with anyone, including his girlfriend and family, America understood that they all knew what he was going through. He didn’t have to talk or explain anything. They supported him anyway, the way a family should. As such, over the past few months, a lot of them had done the talking for him.  
Britain had expressed his concern several times over his son’s excessive anger about the subject. And Mexico had expressed her concern about his sorrow. They were both right in saying he needed to figure out how to get a handle on it. And finally six months after the fact, he finally felt like he was able to control it.   
The anxiety was still somewhat dreadful. Like when Matthew wanted to go to a meeting with China for example. But…he was growing to be better about that too. America may have still had to come to accompany his brother, just to be present and make sure he wasn’t going to get hurt…but…he could at least remain quiet.   
Even if they were indirectly talking about what had been done to him at Russia’s.   
It was ok.   
He trusted his brother.   
Fully and completely.   
And because of that, he knew that nothing Russia had planned would ever come to pass. He could never drive a wedge between them now. Not ever. Alfred would always believe his brother over anyone else. Even if there was evidence saying otherwise. Even if there were say…pictures involved.   
No, nothing could shake him now.   
And as such, he could sit quietly and listen to China speak so calmly about the pain he’d been put through, because he knew that Matthew would take care of it. His brother…would always be there to take care of him the way that Alfred was there for him too. And this was his country and his meeting. And so…it was Matthew’s decision on how to respond. 

Matthew pressed his pen into the paper and dragged it across the page. There was an unexpected ripping noise as it jabbed through the parchment. Canada's eyebrows which were already lowered went back up in disbelief and annoyance at the hole in his document, but he simply transferred it over to his signed stack and continued onward. He knew if this was resolved quickly they could still make it back to Mexico for the second half of their vacation. He had no urge to drag this out, but he did stop signing and turned to look over at his brother. He knew America was upset, angry, and all-in-all handling everything very well at this meeting. He had yet to fly across the table and try to get at China for what he had said.  
Canada looked from his brother back across the table at China.  
"I can't cut off trade with you or Russia. You know that. I know that. We all know that. I also can't stop you or Russia from applying for more involvement in certain things. I am still thankful you didn't let me die at Russia's. I know I wasn't in good shape there, but I'm still angry too. You could have helped my brother, but you didn't. I don't care what excuse you have for that either."   
Canada cut China's rebuttal off before he had a chance to say it.  
"I love my brother." Canada looked to America once more. "He's cocky, somewhat brash, and a lot of the time a pain in my side. However, he's also my brother, he takes care of his friends, and I think a lot of the time even if things don't go like he plans he still tries his best to be a hero. Whatever Russia was trying to do, I don't care. He kidnapped my friends, hurt my boyfriend, and tortured my brother...and I hate him for it."   
Even in anger Canada's voice was quiet, but at least it was slightly louder as he glared across the table.  
"I will never forgive him for what he did. You can tell him that. I may not be able to stop him from coming to my country for business meetings or trade meetings like this, but if I can block him, I will. I want nothing to do with him. America and I were on vacation, and I plan to get back there. I know we have to meet again this evening, and then I will see you to the airport." Canada picked up his stack of papers and hit the bottom of the pages along the table. Then he stood up and turned to his brother.  
"Let's relax until the next meeting this evening and then tonight we'll leave to meet everyone. Ok?"

America gazed at his brother, something close to amazement on his face. He knew how hard it was for Matthew to speak up about things, to speak up about anything for that matter. Especially during a diplomatic meeting such as this. He had always been the type to stay quiet, and lay low and let everything blow over. America had half expected him not to say anything to China at all. So when he did speak up, firmly, and devoutly in America’s defense, Alfred had to be touched. It meant a lot to him. More than Matthew probably even realized.   
And so, the two brothers concluded the meeting and left the conference room together. And as soon as they stepped out of the room and into the hall and away from prying eyes, America immediately moved forward. He threw his arms around his little brother, pulling him in close, and holding him tightly. Bowing his head, he pressed his blonde locks into those of his brothers.   
“Thank you…” he whispered. And he didn’t need to explain what he was thanking him for, and Matthew didn’t even need to respond. Lifting his arms, Canada hugged his brother back just as tightly. And with one good final squeeze, they parted and let one another go.   
After that, they went back to the hotel to recuperate. And after that, later in the evening, they headed back to Canada’s government building to finish up their business with China. Then, after a good night’s rest back at the hotel, they woke up early in the morning to hop back on a plane for Mexico.  
Already, Alfred was talking excitingly about the plans he had in store for everyone. And since they’d missed the first week of vacation, he was now talking about cramming all his plans into the few days they had left.   
“And we have to go see Mexico City of course!” He was raving. “And we didn’t get to enjoy the beach either. We have to do that again, properly this time! Oh! And the food! You guys have got to eat some authentic Mexican food! Maaaan! Although, Britain might die, since he doesn’t know what spices are! Maybe we can get him some plain rice, like some sort of baby! Hahaha!”   
Canada smiled, tolerating his brother as always. But even though he was being loud and obnoxious…it was good. Matthew knew that this was the way Alfred was supposed to be, meant to be. Matthew hadn’t liked it at all right after the Russian incident when he’d been quiet and withdrawn. That just wasn’t him. And so, seeing him so rambunctious once more was wonderful, even if he was disturbing everyone else on the plane.  
Landing back in Mexico, America and Canada were thrilled to find their entire group of friends waiting for them at the airport. Germany, Italy, Britain, France, Prussia and Mexico. They were all there. And as Canada ran into Prussia’s arms, and America ran to hug Mexico, Britain frowned and lowered his arms which had been open in expectation of hugs from his sons. He pouted. Then laughing, both brothers’ eventually went to hug their father too, after receiving kisses from their partners.  
“Que? Non hugs for me?” France complained. Matthew of course went to hug his papa, but America only stuck out his tongue with a very mature ‘phht!’ Mexico let out a gasp, and immediately smacked him across his arm.  
“Ow!”  
“Dat’s no way to treat jour papa!” And France of course, loved that.  
“Oui! That’s non way to treat your papa Amerique! Now you come to papa and give ‘im a big kiss!”  
“Gross! Never dude!” And this time, Mexico didn’t hit him. There was something disturbing about the look on France’s face and there was no way she was going to make America hug him now.  
“On second thought…Alfred…jou stay ‘ere wid me.” And quickly, she interlocked her arms with his. France let out a merry ‘hon hon hon.”  
The group headed back to their hotel, and all over again, just like the first time, they all changed into their bathing suits. They were going to make it to the beach damn it! And they were determined to have a wonderful time!  
And so, the second time around, the group managed to finally relax. Or…at least…relax as much as they could with all the mischief and rambunctiousness that came with the territory of such a large group of nations. Britain sat in a beach chair under the shade of one of the umbrellas, due to the fact that he burned easily.   
“It’s so bloody hot…” he complained, then reached out to the iced tea he had waiting for him to help him cool off. France, seated on the blanket beside him, could not help but to tease.  
“Zat is because you’re not used to la sun or la sky, or anything othair than rain and cold and misery. Oui?” Britain would have retaliated a bit more fiercely, but he was feeling too relaxed, and it was too hot out. And so, lazily he said,  
“Shut up Frog…” Then proceeded to take a sip from his drink. Looking out before him, was a sight to behold for a parent. America, Canada, Prussia, and Mexico were all in the water together. They played as if they were children, carefree and joyfully. Prussia and Canada were trying to smear sunscreen on each other’s faces, considering they both burned like Britain, but America and Mexico wouldn’t seem to let them. Being more southern, the sun didn’t bother them as much, and they seemed to want to play before the other couple was ready.  
“Bro! We have to do a chicken fight! Come on! Come on!” As impatient as always America prodded and pushed Canada until the younger of the two cracked and barked back in his quiet way,  
“Fine! Just shut up for a second!” America immediately bent down in the water to allow Mexico to climb up onto his back, and once he had a firm grip on her legs, he stood back up. Laughing, he ran around with her in the ocean as Canada very awkwardly tried to figure out how to mount Prussia. Blushing furiously, he went behind his boyfriend and tried to crawl up onto him, but Prussia was standing tall, and hadn’t bent down as America had. It seemed almost as if he were making it hard on Matthew on purpose.  
“I don’t zee what zee problem iz? Birdie should juzt be more aggrezzive! Like zee awezome me!”  
“Gilbert,” Matthew groaned. “I can’t…it’s slippery…” And then of course, Prussia was blushing too. And it was then, at that moment that a shadow fell over the ex nation. Blinking his red eyes and looking up, he found his brother. Germany stood tall, and like a brick wall. And on top of his shoulders Italy sat, looking as happy and as excited as ever. The couple gazed down at Prussia.  
“You might vant to let Canada up bruder, or Italy unt I vill crush you in another ten seconds.” A large grin spread over Prussia’s face at the challenge.  
“You’re on West! We will see who zee last one ztangink iz! And of course, it vill be zee awezome me!”  
“Hey!” Canada objected.   
“And Birdie too! Come on Birdie! Hop on!” And this time, bending down for his partner, Canada had no trouble climbing up onto Gilbert’s shoulders. With a grunt and a huff, the couple was up. America and Mexico, seeing that everyone was finally assembled, hurried back over to the group.  
“Awesome! Germany and Italy are going to fight too!”   
“Ok, everyvon get into a circle. Let’s do dis properly,” Germany instructed.  
“Fuck that! Ready, set, go!” America screamed. And just like that, they were off. Mexico screamed as her crazy boyfriend charged forward like a rhinoceros. But it seemed to work, because it caught poor Italy off guard, who also screamed…much in the same decibel as Mexico had.   
“Ah hahaha! Take that!” Alfred cried. But Germany wouldn’t be moved. Like the tank he was, he moved forward forcefully, smashing his poor boyfriend into Mexico.  
“Ohi! Ve!” Italy cried.   
“Nein! Italy! Use your arms you dummkopf! Not your face!”   
“Germania! I’m-a-tryiiiing!” He wailed. And then of course, Canada and Prussia, the sneaky team, had come up behind Mexico. With little warning Matthew shoved the mocha skinned nation from behind. But, with Canada being so shy and polite, he did little more than unbalance her, causing her to throw her hands forward, both palms smashing into the front of America’s face.   
“UGH! My glasses!” Alfred cried.   
“Kekekeke! Unawesome iz blind! Nowz our chance! Get em Birdie!” And then there was only a fray to watch, water and laughter spraying in every which direction as the chicken fight continued.   
Britain watched from his blanket, seated in the shade, and spitting his tea peacefully. A small smile graced his lips as he lowered his sunglasses to get a better view of the ruckus in the water before him. Countries could be disorderly, for certain. And they sure were great at bickering with one another, or causing unnecessary arguments. And sometimes they could even fight with one another on a more serious level, but…  
When they all got together like this, and everyone was able to have fun, well…it seemed like the most powerful magic in the world to Britain. It was so nice to see everyone so happy and so carefree. It warmed a spot deep within him. And perhaps, there was no greater joy for a parent than this. It was a perfect moment. And he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Normally he would have chastised them all for being such children but…like Canada had recognized on the plane, he now recognized too.  
This was who they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to finish posting the chapters, but I have not had time to edit them like I did the other chapters. I hope there aren't any glaring omissions. If their are I will get around to editing them soon.


	27. Back to Normal

Chapter 27  
Back to Normal

Eventually, and inevitably, everyone became healed of their injures. The northern twins were released in another few days, and after that, everyone went home. Britain had to get back to work eventually, as did France, and the two returned to their own countries. Germany, Italy, and Prussia all headed back to Germany’s house, where Ludwig looked after his brother until his slower healing injuries disappeared.   
Still suffering from separation anxiety, he never let Italy leave his sight. But…Italy didn’t mind. As with all things, Feliciano spent his time easing Germany’s frayed nerves, and smoothing over the ruffled feathers the ordeal had caused for him.  
America and Canada returned back home as well. Only things for them were a bit more difficult than they were for Germany and Italy. They didn’t live together for one, and their bosses wanted them to come back to work once they were healed. This proved difficult considering Alfred didn’t want to leave Matthew’s side. Having gone home to his house, he hadn’t yet left. And after overstaying his welcome, he dragged poor Matthew home with him to America. They started attending one another’s business meetings…which none of the bosses liked. And it started to become problematic.   
Finally, however, several months later, all the countries were let off for summer vacation. Considering all they’d been through, they all wanted to get together once more, just to have fun and blow off some stress from work.   
America had a wonderful idea for a vacation location, and immediately suggested Puerto Vallarta, a beach resort located in Mexico. Apparently he had some ‘special surprise’ for everyone once they arrived.   
((I’m going with a different time line for our RP than the story I’m currently writing. Because the way it’s going right now, everyone would have found out in 2002. So for our story, I’ll just have it be a big secret from everyone.))  
And so, for the entire plane ride over, while Canada was going “What is it? Tell me? Tell me?” America was shaking his head going, “Hmmm….nope. Nah. Nuh-uh!” Until finally they landed.   
After collecting their baggage, the twins headed out into a taxi and made their way to the hotel they’d all be sharing. They were all scheduled to meet at the front entrance, before changing clothes and heading down to the beach to see whatever America’s big surprise was.   
Coming up to the entranceway to the hotel, America immediately spotted Germany, Italy and Prussia, who were already there and as punctual as always. Prussia, of course, ran right over to his boyfriend, throwing his arms around him in an embrace. And that left America to take in the sight of Germany and Italy.   
Both were dressed in vacation outfits, clearly picked out by Feliciano. Germany was standing tall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his chin firm and level with the ground as his blue eyes gazed out at the ocean just over the rise. He was as stoic as always but…looked a little strange in a bright green shirt with palm trees covering it, and Bermuda shorts. Alfred wasn’t used to seeing him out of uniform. And man…his skin looked stark-white in the tropical sun.  
Italy on the other hand, was so adorable, he could have been mistaken for a girl. Wearing a similar shirt to Germany’s but his being pink, and his shorts being much tighter than his partners, it was no wonder he hadn’t been picked up by some strange tourist yet. Especially with his cute little hat on.  
Then again, in looking at how intimidating Germany was…Alfred no longer wondered why Italy hadn’t been approached. The dude looked like a lion ready to pounce on anyone who dared even glance his partner’s way. He was clearly on alert for predators, so perhaps…someone had been foolish enough to try after all.   
Feliciano waved when he saw the twins arrive.  
“Ciao!” he greeted, whilst still gripping Germany’s hand. “We-a-had-a-great-a-planeride! And-a-therewas-a-this-one-a-part where we-a-hitsometurbulance! And Germania got-a-sick and we-a-hadtogototherestroom! But-a-hewasasobigIcouldn’tfitinside withhim-a-and and-an-and-!” But Italy was talking so quickly at that point that America simply couldn’t keep up. Laughing, he raised his hands to defend himself from the barrage of words.  
“Ok dude! You’re excited, I get it!”   
But it was then that another cab pulled up to the curb. And when it did, America turned to face it, his heart beating just a little bit quicker. He was hoping it was his parents. Ever since the Russia incident, he appreciated them a lot more than he used to. Actually…I appreciate everyone a lot more than I used to… he thought truthfully. As horrific as the ordeal was, it seemed to have brought all of the countries closer together. After surviving such a nightmare, it was no wonder. It really illustrated how much they needed one another. And ever since Russia’s, America couldn’t help but to remember all the other times his dad’s had been there for him, and all the things they’d done to help him over his two hundred year history.   
And so, when he saw Britain and France getting out of the car, already bickering and fighting as usual, a wide smile spread over his face.   
“Mom!” He cried. And just like that, he was running toward Britain, looking a lot like a freight train that could possibly run over the smaller European nation. 

“Gyahh!” Britain cried as he turned and saw his older son barreling towards him. America had done this more than once during his lifetime, but it had been much easier when America had been a child. In fact when the nation had been little it had been endearing. Britain had told America on more than one occasion that he was now too big to do this. Unfortunately, America was such a kid at heart. In moments of excitement like this he could forget that he was a superpower and hit like a brick house.   
Not that Britain minded America’s power hugs or that the tackling hurt him. The situation was simply humiliating to the English gentleman. Britain raised his hands into the air for some type of defense against his oncoming son.  
“America! Wait! S-Stop!”   
The protest fell on deaf ears as it always had. America slammed into his shorter father and wrapped his arms under Britain’s outstretched arms and around Britain’s chest. Britain was a little less than enthusiastic to receive the fierce hug. The red in Britain’s cheeks soon enveloped his entire face as America stood up straight and leaned back. The action caused Britain’s feet to leave the ground. Britain kicked his feet in the air as his eyes blanched. Unable to reach the ground Britain was forced to endure while his son squeezed him.   
“Put me down! America! This is highly undignified!”  
Despite his protests Britain was glad to see his son acting like his old self. After the horrible time they had in Russia he had never wanted to leave his sons. It was an impossible dream, and he had been forced to leave both of his sons to go home and work. He had been forced to work continually over the past few months to make up for lost time. This was the first time he’d actually seen America or Canada since they had all left Estonia. He was glad to see both of his sons smiling, and he was glad to see the spark back in America’s eyes.   
All of the things that had been done to both of his sons in Russia had haunted him over the past few months. He’d had plenty of nightmares about the states in which he’d found America and Canada, and he had played off more than one late night call as accidental when he had wanted to casually check in on his sons. He was just glad to see America and Canada back in their normal spirits. Despite all his protests to the current situation he reached out wrapping his arms around America’s neck and gave his son a firm, loving squeeze. The father, son moment was brief. America soon began swinging Britain from side to side like he was a stuffed animal, and a vein popped to life in Britain’s head.  
“That is quite enough of your tomfoolery! Put me down this instant!” Britain demanded.  
Canada came walking over with Prussia’s arm over his shoulder. He smiled at Britain who was busy with America. Then he moved to France.  
“Bonjour Papa.”  
France came forward enveloping both Canada and Prussia.  
“Bonjour mon petit Matthieu et Gilbert! C'est bon de vous voir. (Hello my little Matthew and Gilbert. It is good to see you.)” Then he flew around the two and went to hug Italy.   
Canada stayed back while Britain tried to get free of America’s steel arms. A smile tugged at his lips as he leaned against Prussia’s side enjoying the warm embrace.  
“Alfred. You promised to tell me what this surprise was!” Canada kept his eyes on his brother. After having this ‘surprise’ dangled over his head since before they had left his brother’s home, Canada was growing impatient to know what his brother was so excited to tell everyone. That’s when Matthew felt a strange tickle in his sinuses. He barely had time to raise his hands to his face and cover his mouth before he coughed into his hand. He felt another odd sensation that lead to a sniffle, but after a moment it passed. Prussia was immediately asking if he was ok, and Matthew waved off his worried boyfriend.  
“It’s nothing. I just got something caught in my throat.” Matthew looked back at his brother, “Come on. What’s the surprise, Alfred!!”

France, running toward Italy, was a horrible idea. Germany was clearly still on sentinel mode, and as soon as he saw the perverted country racing toward his lover, arms outstretched, he reacted instinctually. Reaching out, before France ever reached his target, his larger German hand fell down on the French man’s face. Pressing back against him, all France could do was stretch his arms outward, swinging them wildly toward his target who was now only inches away. Germany glowered.  
“You’re not to touch mein Italy durink dis entire trip! Do you hear me?” He demanded. And Italy, although true that he was indeed trying to loosen Germany up a bit since the Russia incident, still absolutely loved it when he acted possessive of him.   
“Ve!” He cried with delight, both hands flying to his cheeks.   
“Non!” France objected in dismay. “He’s so cute! I simply must touch him!” Germany’s glower grew even stonier, his blue eyes cold. Slowly, he started to increase his grip.  
“I vill crush your face!”  
“Aieee!” France cried. 

But over by the cab, away from the commotion, America finally released Britain, not wanting to permanently injure him, just maybe…rough him up a bit. Grinning from ear to ear, he slapped the smaller nation across the back.  
“Good to see ya mom!” And then, hearing Canada’s question, his grin only grew.  
“I told you! The surprise is at the beach! We should all get changed into our swim trunks and head down there so we can all swim together! We need to get some alcohol into Ludwig too, so he loosens up! Look at him, he’s wound up tighter than a steel drum!”   
Gesturing, everyone looked over to find Germany going a little bit overboard on poor France who’d been forced to his knees by the pressure being exhibited on his face. The fun over, Italy was now hanging on Germany’s arm, trying to get him to release his iron grip.  
“Ludwig! It’s-a-ok! It’s-a-ok now. He just-a-wanted to say hello,” he explained. The chiseled nation hesitated, but after looking to his partner’s expression…he finally let France’s face go.   
“Aiee! My beautiful face!” And indeed, there was now a large, red, handprint covering the entirety of France’s features. 

Britain walked over to his brother. A grin on his face.  
"Serves you right."  
He said to the sobbing nation who was over dramatically clinging to his face, "Come along chap. Let's go get changed so we can see what this surprise is." He grabbed France by the back of his shirt and started to drag him off towards the hotel. A moment later Canada grabbed Prussia's hand and started to drag him off towards the hotel as well. As they started up in the elevator another cough hit him, and this time Prussia gave him a look of concern. Once more the Northern twin blew off Prussia's look and instead stared at his brother.  
"Did you get a new boat?" He took a stab at what the surprise could be.  
“Nope! It’s not a boat!” America cried, clearly pleased about his game of ‘guess what.’  
Seeing as his boyfriend had abandoned him Prussia turned to his own brother and Italy. He reached out throwing his arm around Italy. Grasping his shoulder he hugged him close so he could speak to him. Perhaps the only nation in the world Germany wouldn't kill for doing such a thing. It wasn't odd for Prussia to do such a thing since they'd all lived together for so long.  
"Italy when we get down to the beach you need to start a plan to pull ztick out of mud immediately. West looks like he iz going to hav 'unt aneurism." Prussia took his hand off of Italy's shoulder and reached up grabbing onto Germany's shoulder, "Relax. Iz vacation. We finally have vacation!" Prussia's smile beamed as he said the words, "No boring business meetings. Nobody to tell you about deadlines. Just fun!"

“Si!” Italy agreed, to all that Prussia had said. Looking over to Germany, his heart warmed. He knew he could get him to loosen up. A few minutes in their hotel room would be enough. “Germania, when-a-we get to the beach, will you come-a-swimming with me?”  
Ludwig, turning his attention toward Italy, looked to his adorable face. He could never say no to him, not matter what it was he was requesting.  
“Ja,” he agreed. “If you go svimmink, I’ll have to come to make sure you don’t drown…” Feliciano giggled. 

Everyone divided up into their own rooms once off the elevator. Changing in the bathrooms and in the privacy of their hotel spaces, it took a few minutes for everyone to get ready. Some took more time than others.   
America of course was waiting in the hallway impatiently, being one of the first out. Canada and Prussia come out next. Then, France and Britain…who of course had an entire beach bag, full of things like sun tan lotion, water, bug spray, towels, and even baggies full of crackers “for the boys,” Britain claimed.   
Then everyone was waiting on Germany and Italy, who were oddly, the last ones out. Germany was always prompt, so it was strange for them to be last. But of course, Prussia knew what was going on, since he’d given Italy a mission. As such, everyone was made to wait another ten minutes or so. But then, finally, the pair emerged, changed and appearing ready to go. Italy was carrying some floaties with him, while Germany had the towels. Germany appeared…a lot less stressed then he was before, a great color in his face.   
“Ok, is everyvone ready to go?” He asked the group.

Canada was happily wrapped up in Prussia’s arms. The ex-nation was standing behind his boyfriend and had his chin resting on Matthew’s shoulder when Germany and Italy came out into the hallway. Prussia smiled brightly at them, but he didn’t say anything.  
Britain looked to his older son.  
“Lead the way America. Let’s see what this surprise of yours is. I swear if it is some new superhero you’ve created I do not want any part of it.”  
Canada laughed at the idea of a new American super hero.  
“I think it’s something else.” He said as they climbed back onto the elevator, “I just can’t think of it.” He looked over at his brother who was grinning from ear to ear. He had already guessed everything. What else could it be? As the elevator lowered to the bottom floor and everyone slowly climbed off the gears in Matthew’s head were still turning.  
“Maybe a new water gun? Hey Alfred. We buried mom in sand. Let’s wait for France to drink a bit and then bury him in sand.” The Northern twin smiled at the idea as they walked out of the hotel and onto the sandy beach. Prussia seemed all for burying his friend.  
“I think that is a great idea Matthew! We should bury Francis. Right after unawezome’s zurprize.” Canada looked around the beach. He saw people, but he never saw anything drastically out of place. Anything that just screamed I’m America’s surprise. I’m right here!

America was oddly quiet about the entire thing, which of course wasn’t usually his style. But once they got to the beach, it looked like his cheeks may burst from the strength of his grin. Out in the sun on the tourist beach, the water before them a crystal blue, and with a gentle breeze blowing, the day couldn’t get any more beautiful.   
Stepping forward and past all of his friends, America’s flip-flops moved through the white sands. At first it was hard to tell where he was going, or where he was heading, but then, one of the people in the crowd before him turned around to face them.  
It was a woman. With mocha colored skin, and long, wavy chocolate hair, there was no doubt that she was beautiful and exotic. Wearing a bright green bathing suit and a white cover wrap around her legs, her eyes crinkled in delight when she saw America. They clearly knew one another.   
“Alfred!” She cried. And nearly everyone in the group gaped when she started to run to him. They would have been equally shocked when Alfred opened his arms to her to receive her. Then they came together in a happy embrace American lifting her up and spinning her around just once. Then, after putting her back down on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned in for a kiss.   
After a quick greeting, he pulled back, then faced his shocked family. And in looking at their faces, he had to laugh out loud.   
“Haha! Look at all of you dudes! Haha! Britain especially!” Still laughing, be pointed a finger at his loved ones.  
“Alfred! Dat’s rude!” The woman said to him. “Dis es jour family! Introduce me properly, and be nice!” Still laughing, but starting to calm down some, he looked from the woman in his arms and back to his family.  
“Ah, ok. I guess I’ll tease them later.” Arm around her, America stepped forward with his apparent girlfriend. “Guys, this is my surprise. This is Mexico, her human name’s Maria. We’ve been dating since 1994.”

Britain was so shocked with the revelation that he dropped his beach bag onto the sand, spilling out the water bottles and sun tan lotion. His mouth hung open.  
Matthew stared from Prussia's arms. He had met Mexico before but the occasions had been brief and far apart. He had never suspected this kind of secret from his brother. It seemed amazing that Alfred could keep a secret for that long.  
That's when Britain took a step forward, "1-1-19-19-1994!? Since 1994!? How the bollucks-!"  
France ran by his stuttering brother and went to stand in front of Mexica, "Hon, Hon, Hon! 'ello." He reached out taking Mexico's hand in his own and then raised it to his lips to kiss the back of her hand.  
Matthew came forward then looked at his brother, "And you were mad I kept my relationship with Gilbert from you." He huffed looking away from his brother.  
"Way to go unawezome!" Prussia reached over Matthew playfully punching America in the shoulder, "Who da thunk you'z could getz zuch a pretty lady!"

America smiled widely and brightly, but also knew, of course, that at least some of his family members had been insulted by the very long, drawn out secret he’d kept.   
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “We uh…it was kinda rough at first, so we didn’t want anyone knowing. Then there was this huge debacle with Cuba and he uh…kinda got crazy jealous and wanted to kill us. And then uh…well September Eleventh happened and…it just never seemed like the right time,” he explained. “But, here we are!”   
Turning to France, he gave the man a firm slap across his back. “Told ya I wasn’t missing out! Hahaha!”   
“Es my fault too,” Maria said. “I ask him not to tell. I was having a lot of problems in my country. And uh…we took a break for a while en da beginning of de new century.” America shrugged, trying to brush it off. Clearly the couple had their fair share of problems, which had probably been a major reason he hadn’t told anyone.  
“Besides…I knew mom would act like that!” Alfred said, gesturing to Britain. “Close your mouth! Yes! I am capable of human compassion!”   
But before Britain could really respond, France’s face rose up between the two from behind. Leaning in, and putting an arm around each of them, he grinned in his usual perverted manner.  
“I knew it!” He said. “I knew you ‘ad a secret sex life! I knew there was no way you were as straight a shootair as you were pretending! Oui! Mon cheri! You two do nasty things togethair, oui? Tell me! Tell me all about it!”   
America rolled his eyes, then quickly shrugged out from underneath France’s arm. Quickly he shoved the other nation away.  
“And I knew that France would act like that!”

Canada couldn't help but laugh, but before the laugh was over it transformed into a fit of coughing that seemed unnatural for a healthy country. Seeing as this had happened once in the presence of the others, but also when the two had been alone in their hotel room Prussia was becoming a bit more concerned for his boyfriend. The albino shot a disgruntled look at his boyfriend and was about to ask if he were ok, but once again Canada waved him off as he wiped at his nose.  
Prussia's disgruntled look turned into a frown, "Zu need to stop doing, zhat."  
Canada finally stopped coughing and stepped back from his brother and looked at his boyfriend, "I told you I am fine. Something is in my throat."  
Prussia was about to make a rebuttal, but he was suddenly shoved aside by a raging Englishman. Prussia went careening into Canada and before either knew what had happened Prussia was lying on top of Canada in the sand.

Britain waved an unhappy finger in his son's face, "Y-y-you!" He fumed as he continued to wave that unhappy lecturing finger, "Didn't you see how mad I was at your brother for keeping secrets! H-he had a legitimate reason too! Y-you have been hiding this for 18 years!! What is wrong with you boys?" Then in another second Britain was ranting.  
Prussia hadn't moved from his spot where he was keeping Canada pinned against the white sand, for once he wasn't trying to be dirty about the positions they had found themselves in either. It was just that since he was so close to his boyfriend he had looked into Matthew's eyes and noticed that they were a bit red and puffy. He also noticed a red hue in Canada's cheeks. He thought it may have been a blush from embarrassment, but Canada didn't look embarrassed he looked like he was coming down with something. Prussia leaned down kissing his boyfriend on his forehead. He was a bit relieved that Matthew didn't feel warm in anyway, so when he pulled back he simply asked again.  
"Are you zure your ok?"  
Canada smiled up at his boyfriend, "I promise. I'm OK."  
With a heavy sigh Prussia slowly stood up and then helped Canada to his feet as well. He held onto his boyfriend's hand. Silently Canada was starting to get a little worried too. His energy was fading and he felt an uncalled for headache coming on. Pushing those things aside he smiled back at his brother, "I'm happy for you, Al."

America, as protective as he had been over his brother, normally would have noticed his coughing, and his oncoming cold immediately. In fact, with all that had happened between them, America would have probably fussed over-excessively and it would have inflamed the fear that he’d developed over him ever since the Russian incident.   
But with his hands full with Mexico, and now France and Britain, he hadn’t the time. At the moment, he was trying to fend off Arthur, who truly appeared hurt by his well kept secret.  
“No good reason?” Alfred cried. “I just told you! We had to keep it a secret so that Cuba wouldn’t find out about us! He was crazy in the nineties! Well…he kinda found out anyway. And we were right about keeping it a secret because he tried to fucking kill both of us! And by the time all that settled down we had September Eleventh. And we...uh…kinda took a break after that…”  
And suddenly, Alfred was looking uncomfortable. September Eleventh was one of those touchy subjects he never spoke about to begin with, but now it seemed like it was coupled together with some sort of break-up between him and Mexico.   
“So if it makes you feel any better, we only got back together recently,” he said.   
But even as he was explaining everything to Britain, France was busy. As always, his hands and eyes wandered. Only a second of being unsupervised led his grubby hands toward Maria’s plump rump. There was a quick unsolicited squeeze, a shriek from America’s girlfriend, and then a harsh, violent CRACK as America’s fist came down on top of his father’s head.  
“I told you dude…I warned you. If you touch her again, you’ll be unconscious for the rest of this vacation.”

"Oh America. You can't expect much more from him. He's been like that since he was born. He did have those wonder years during the musketeer era-"  
"'ey!" France cried from his place in the sand, "T'at is not rig't! I was only saying 'ello!"  
Rolling his eyes up towards the sky Britain moved away from America. He went to Mexico a genuine smile on his face. Despite all the lecturing he was happy his son had found such a thing as love. He was happy for both of his son's actually. They had both been dealt horrid hands lately, and they had both pulled through. He was proud of them.  
Still Alfred needed to be taught a lesson about keeping secrets. The island nation reached out waiting for Mexico to reach out her hand. When she did Arthur took her hand in his own and gently patted it. He smiled at the younger nation.  
"I will say, love. I never imagined any woman would be able to stand my son's outlandish imagination or his-" Britain paused as he thought of what to say next. He shot America a distasteful look as he finally settled on the words, " ...youthful spirit." Still holding her hand, Britain gently started to lead Mexico away from America. He smiled at America's girlfriend as he walked away. He shot a look back over his shoulder as they moved away. A look that silently said 'I will show you to keep secrets'. Then he turned back to Mexico with a smile on his face,  
"Let us set up the beach chairs. I have so many fun stories about Alfred I can tell you. Like when he was a wee lad! He used to be the cutest little lad. He had a lot of strange ideas though. In fact once he took his brother out into the woods behind our home and got horribly lost. That's not the whole story though. I'll tell you from the beginning."  
Canada and Prussia had come over to America. Canada watched their father walk away with Mexico.  
"I'm glad he never did that with Prussia."   
Prussia snickered.  
"Zhat may not be az true as du think, Birdie." Matthew whirled around on Prussia. His eyes wide.  
"E-eh. Wh-when did Britain talk to you?" Prussia snickered.  
"Du no need to worry. Iz waz a fun conversation. I never knew you cried when America stole d'our polar bear."  
Matthew's cheeks caught fire at those memories. They were embarrassing, but even so they were nostalgic. He assumed it was a parent’s right to share such humiliating stories, but he didn't have to like it. Cheeks burning he turned back to his twin. A smile on his face.  
"Maybe you should have waited on telling those two." Canada suddenly noticed that France had vanished. He blinked and then looked around for his first father, "Papa?" Then he found France sneaking back towards Mexico and Britain who were still talking. "Papa! Arrête ça! (stop that!)  
A grin suddenly spread over Prussia's face. He moved away from the twins waving as he ran.  
"I gotz thiz, unawesome!"   
A few minutes later he was tackling France and attempting to pin him to the sand and bury him. Unfortunately France was putting up a fight and soon the two were wrestling, "W-west! Hilfe! (Help)" Prussia yelled as he picked up a hand full of sand and put it in France's hair.  
Canada laughed.  
"Alfred. Let's help Prussia, eh? Then you can do what you want without worrying about papa for the rest of the day."

Oh, and America agreed whole heartedly. A large, uncontrolled grin overtook his face at the idea.  
“Awesome!” He wasted no time racing forward. With his brother at his side, and Prussia, who’d become a rather great friend, the three teamed up on poor France. “I’ve got em! You guys bury! Quick!” And holding a thrashing French man down with his strong hands, quickly Canada and Prussia got to work tossing sand on top of Francis.  
“Aie! It’s in my eye! You got la sand in my eye!”   
“Serves you right for groping my girlfriend!” But of course, it was all in good natured fun.  
Out by the beach blankets, Maria was helping Arthur set up the umbrellas. She loved hearing embarrassing stories about Alfred when he was young. What girlfriend didn’t?   
“But Britain,” she said, interrupting him. “What really ‘as changed at all? Everything jou describe esounds exactly like Alfred as an adult.” And of course, it was then that Britain and Mexico looked over to see what all the commotion was. And what they found was a group of rambunctious boys, burying their father in the sand. Maria giggled.  
“Jou see? He’s estill nothing but a boy.” She looked to her boyfriend’s father, her dark eyes shining. “Es nice of jou to warn me, but I’m afraid I already know how grotesquely immature he es.” All the same, despite what sounded like it could have been insults, it was clear to see that this boyishness Mexico described was actually one of the many reasons she loved America to begin with. 

Britain watched Mexico stare off at America. He was happy for his son, and he was glad that Mexico was able to appreciate Alfred for all that he was. Any father was glad to see his children happy, and when he saw his brother buried he smirked.   
"Make sure he's good and buried kids!"  
Prussia was sticking a twig on the top of the mound that was France.  
"Ze awezome me haz conquered zu." Matthew was laughing beside Prussia when he broke out coughing once more. This time snot ran from his nose, and he hopped up to go grab a tissue from his bag.  
He ran to where Britain and Mexico were and started looking through his bag for a tissue. Just as he managed to find one and wiped his nose he sneezed again. What was once a simple sneeze was quickly becoming more and more of a cold.   
It was Britain who took notice since Matthew was standing beside him. He walked over to the younger twin and looked him over.  
"You look a bit under the weather. Are you all right?"  
Matthew nodded his head as he sneezed once more.  
"Y-yeah. I am ok." Matthew tried to wave off his father, but Britain was harder to get rid of. All the events of the past few months had caused Britain to be attentive to his sons. Britain marched over to his son and grabbed him by his shoulder. Then he stared into Matthew's blood shot eyes.  
"You don't look all right. Matthew, you look like your catching a cold." Britain raised his hand up and placed it on his younger son's head, "You feel warm. Maybe you sould sit down."  
Matthew was starting to feel tired and his eyes were starting to water and his nose was starting to run. He wanted to disagree with Britain, but sleeping in a beach chair was sounding wonderful. With a silent nod he headed for the beach chair with Britain following him all the way.

And of course, now, with France out of the way, and Mexico currently speaking with someone else, America took notice of his brother’s condition immediately. Getting up from his spot in the sand, he marched over to the beach chair where his little brother had lain down.   
“Bro! Are you not feeling so great?” Kneeling in the sand beside him, he leaned over him, looking him over. He indeed looked a little bit pale, and his nose was running. “You shouldn’t be sneezing on a Mexican beach in summer bro.” And then he reached out a hand and gently placed it on his forehead. Canada felt warm, although not alarmingly so. All the same, America didn’t react well.  
“Matt! You’re warm!” Immediately, he reached out, forcing him to sit up. “Come on man! We gotta get you inside into bed! We…we need to get fluids into you! You shouldn’t be out on a beach! Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” His blue eyes filled with worry. “Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you bro? I can if you need me to!”   
Mexico watched the entire scene unfold before her, her dark eyes saddening at America’s overreaction to his little brothers slight cold. She knew perfectly well why he was reacting in such an excessive way, and it hurt her to see. Although Alfred hadn’t told her everything that had happened, in order to not disturb her too greatly, he had told her all of the basics of his ordeal with Russia. She knew about future America, the plot to take over both Canada and America, and Russia’s insane kidnapping spree where he ended up with over four countries in his ice prison.   
She also knew Alfred had been hurt terribly in his attempts to protect and save his little brother, who he’d been convinced would suffer and die under Russia’s hand. He never spoke of it…but Mexico had been there just after the New Year…when he’d suffered endless nightmares, crying out in his sleep in the dead of the cold winter nights. She’d held him in the lifeless hours of the morning, and she’d felt him tremble.  
Maria knew how overprotective he’d become of Matthew. And as unnecessary as his worry and fear was…she knew it was something he simply had to work through. Telling him there was nothing to worry about wouldn’t help. All she could really do was support him. And so, she stepped forward, and offered Matthew a smile.  
“We could all go rest together,” she suggested. 

Matthew raised his Kleenex holding hand to his nose as he sneezed again. Then he raised his finger telling Alfred to wait. After his sneezing ended he turned to his brother.  
"It really just came on all of the sudden, Alfred. I'm sure it's nothing. I don't need to go inside. Look-" Canada pointed to his boyfriend who was jumping up and down on the sand mound that was France. "He's having so much fun. I can't ruin that, and I don't want to. I'll just stay here and rest for a little while. Mexico can you please take my brother and go swimming. You love the beach Alfred. Go swim." He put his hand into the air and waved his brother off, and then he started sneezing once again. Britain sighed pulling his chair up beside his son.  
"I can watch him America. I'll call you if we need you for anything. I wasn't planning on swimming today." Britain said as he sat down in his chair. 

But America didn’t look convinced.   
“Swimming? Dudes! We can’t possibly go swimming! We need to check the news and make sure Canada’s country is ok! Wh…what if something’s happening? Are…are we expecting any hurricanes? Wait…bro…you don’t usually get those, with it being so cold and all in your country. Avalanches maybe? Earthquakes? R…R…Russia’s not…not anywhere near our hemisphere right now, right?”  
And Alfred’s stutter when it came to Russia’s name didn’t get by Britain, Canada or Mexico. The ice country made him clearly nervous in a way he never had before the incident in December. And sometimes, it was hard to known that America’s unshakable confidence had been knocked down a notch.  
He’ll be fine, Mexico told herself. He jus’ needs some more time.   
“Does anyone ‘ave a phone wid internet access?” She asked. “We could look something like that up.” She knew perfectly well that America wouldn’t settle down until they were absolutely certain his brother was ok. 

Canada fished around in his pocket looking for his cell phone.  
"I left my phone in the hotel room. It's in my jacket pocket. I should go get it."  
Britain fished around in his beach bag and handed his phone over to his son.  
"You can use mine."   
Canada accepted the device gratefully and then dialed his own phone number. It was only a moment later when he entered his security code and an automated voice told him that he had 12 new messages. It made his eyes widen, but he pressed the phone to his ear and tried to keep his brother from listening in on the conversation when Matthew realized his boss was frantically leaving him messages. He'd left his phone only thirty minutes ago, and his boss sounded panicked. His boss knew he was on vacation so it had to be important. Plus his boss was asking for Canada to call him back immediately. Canada scooted to the edge of the chair and slowly stood up.  
"I need to make a call. I will be right back."

“W…wait!” America rose to his feet and went to follow his brother, a panicked look coming across his features. Immediately, Mexico was on it. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his waist, halting him.   
“Alfred, don’t!” She said. Leaning in, she placed her lips near his ear in order to speak more softly, so as not to alert his friends to his fragile emotional situation. “Es ok…” she whispered gently. “Jour bruder jus’ went to make a phone call to find out what’s happened. Dat’s all. He’s jus’ a little under de weather. If it was something more serious, it wouldn’t be jus’ a cold. Alright?”   
But even from behind him, she could see how afraid he was, and even though she’d seen him go through this many times since December, it never made it easier on her. She remembered days when Alfred had once been carefree, not a single worry on his mind. A lot of that had changed on September Eleventh, and now…now this.   
Damn jou Russia… she thought woefully. Damn jou for ‘urting my Alfred so deeply…   
America didn’t answer her, but he didn’t go after Canada again either. As worried and over protective as he’d become concerning his brother, it had been several months since his imprisonment at Russia’s, and he was starting to recognize that he would have to figure out how to let Matt go from time to time.  
“Ok…” he said softly. “Ok…it’s just a cold…” he mumbled. Standing up straight, Mexico released him. Then, walking around to his front, she reached out, wrapping both mocha hands around his shoulders. She offered him a warm smile.  
“Shall we distract jou until he returns? Why don’t we go to de snack shack over dere and get jou one of dos enchiladas jou like eso much, si?”   
Alfred looked to Maria. Even through her sweet smile, he saw the concern on her pretty face. He didn’t like to worry her. And it felt like he’d been doing that a lot lately. And so, being brave, and suppressing his urge to race after his brother and attach himself to his side, he nodded.  
“Ok,” he agreed. “Let’s bring Britain back one, with extra spice. Let’s watch him shot flames from his mouth. He can’t handle any type of spice or flavor.”  
Maria giggled glad to see him able to joke around and back into somewhat good spirits. But she knew he’d secretly be worried until Canada returned. Reaching out, she took his hand.   
“Let’s get jour papa a nice spicy treat.” Then the pair started off across the white sands.

Canada walked back towards the hotel leaving his friends and family behind. He was half way back when he dialed his boss. It didn't take a long time for Canada to finally get through to his frantic boss who was panicking. It didn't take long to find out what had caused his cold either. It also became apparent that Alfred was going to have a conniption when he found out what was going on. As such Matthew sat in the lobby until his patient-less boyfriend came to find him. Still wearing his white swim trunks with the Prussian bird on the front the ex nation ran over to Matthew who was sitting in a chair staring off into space. The two conversed for a moment when they started back toward the beach.  
With a heavy sigh Matthew looked at his family. He walked over to the lawn chair and sat down beside Britain and faced his father.  
"Really, I don't want him to worry." Were the first words out of his mouth. It was quite away to start the conversation and immediately caused Britain to turn and face his son. He was obviously prepared for the worst, but his son looked like he was trying to be reassuring.  
"I have to go to an emergency meeting. There was some kind of issue with some trade tariffs and regulations, but it's not that big a deal. I just have to go to the meeting to resolve the issues."  
"I gathered that if it were bad enough to give you the sniffles then you may have to go back. Who are you meeting with?" Matthew's face crinkled up as an uncomfortable look came over his face. It wasn't the worst case scenario.  
"...China.... I think it will be fine. I know Russia is not supposed to be there." Britain frowned at the announcement. He wasn't happy about it, but Canada was right. It could have been far worse.

It was then that America and Mexico arrived with some Mexican treats in their hands. America of course had one for himself, and another for Britain. But when he looked up and saw Matthew, he hurried forward.   
“Matt!” he called. Kicking up sand, and leaving his poor girlfriend behind, he ran the rest of the way to the beach blankets. Reaching his destination, he immediately stood next to his brother. Still holding both snacks he said,  
“What’s the deal yo? Is everyone in Canada ok?” 

Matthew turned to face his brother. He did not want to panic America, but he did have to be honest about what was happening,  
"I don't want you to panic, but I have to go back to my country for a meeting. There's some kind of issue with a trade tariff, and shipping regulations and it's holding up exported goods. It's nothing major. I just have to be there to sign off on some paper work. So I want you to stay here and relax, but I need to tell you the meeting is with China."

“China!” America exclaimed. “No! No way! No fucking way! There is no way in hell I’m going to let you go sign some agreement with that asshole! Did you forget? He was in league with Russia and North Korea! He was there! He was there at that damned ice hell!”  
And it was clear for all to see how upset Alfred really was, but it was also easy to see how irrational he was being. Matthew had to do what was best for his country, and for himself for that matter, and that at the moment was to fix the trade snafu he’d hit. All he was going to do was sign some papers and it would be over with. He was flying in to do such a thing at one of his government’s buildings. There would be plenty of protection around.  
And so, Canada and Britain alike carefully explained these things to America. He couldn’t argue against it. As a country persona, he knew perfectly well what the responsibilities entailed.   
He did at least, start to feel a little better when Canada reminded him that China hadn’t hurt anyone at Russia’s house, and in fact, had done the complete opposite. He’d helped Canada stay alive, and then was the one to bring him to the hospital.  
“Fine!” he eventually agreed. “But I’m coming with you!” And of course, this made Mexico at least, very sad. She wouldn’t be able to go with him, and the entire vacation they had planned together was instantly ruined. Now he’d be flying off with his brother, and she knew exactly what that meant for Alfred. He’d be fussing and worrying and stressing about every little thing. He could hardly help it. After all…Russia had planted a seed of terror in him that could never be erased. At least…not for a very long time. Her only hope for him was that because they were countries and they lived so very long, that one day, he would loosen his hold on his little brother.   
He was a little bit already. So perhaps, in another fifty years or so, they could go back to having a normal relationship, instead of one built on the fear of losing one another. 

On the plane back to Canada the younger brother continued to sneeze like he had caught a summer cold. But thankfully, Canada's condition did not deteriorate further. It seemed the trade snafu wasn't going to get any worse. With America seated next to him, Canada found himself on the phone a lot as they flew over his brother's country to reach his. Canada was reading through a massive amount of paperwork which proved to be much harder with America in his ear every five minutes trying to read over his shoulder. It was slowly driving him mad. However Matthew had a lifetime of practice ignoring America when he needed to. Which is just what he did.   
He got through all of his documents by the time he started the drive to his parliament building. He spent his time reassuring his brother that the walls were not out to get him. He also made sure to tell America that Russia was not in his country. It was China who had sent explicit instructions that if America wanted to come he could. That in itself was a good thing, China could have easily forbidden America from the meeting. It was sensitive things they had to talk about after all. They had nothing to do with America. He had no business being there. Still the ancient nation seemed to understand America's plight. He was relaxing in a chair when the North American twins came into the room. Canada trying to keep his brother behind him.  
"Ei-ya. I thought you got lost. Everything fall apart quickly."  
"Sorry. The plane ride back took longer than expected." Canada walked to his seat. He'd made America promise to just be a silent observer as he sat down in a seat next to him. He didn't expect that to last long, but he wanted to get this meeting over with as soon as possible. He hoped America could stay calm for the amount of time he needed.   
Canada was not excited by China's presence since he did have ties to Russia and North Korea, but China had helped him. That was something he had never thanked the other nation for. So as he took his seat with a hand full of papers to read over he looked up at the oriental nation.  
"Thank you for helping me to the hospital that day. You didn't have to, and I appreciate it."  
China continued to stare across the table at the two brothers.  
"They go too far. That was not supposed to be point of meeting."  
America tensed in his chair. He’d promised his brother not to say anything, but it was hard. He certainly wouldn’t have called what happened to him and all his friends and family a ‘meeting.’ Kidnapping perhaps. Imprisonment. Even torture. But certainly not ‘a meeting.’   
All the same, somehow, someway, he kept silent. He may not have been very good at self-restraint, but he respected the fact that he was currently in Canada at a Canadian meeting. This was his brother’s battle. So he would let him deal with it as he saw fit.   
Matthew shuffled through his papers signing off on a new trade agreement his boss had approved. It already had China's signature on it. Matthew stopped signing for a moment and looked back to China.   
He had to admit that Russia's original plan still eluded him. They had never been told by future America, and Russia had never explained his motives. It seemed that all Russia had accomplished was the agony of several different countries personifications. Even if they had all individually suffered, their countries hadn't.   
Canada thought then of his boyfriend and how scary that had been. Prussia had the longest recovery time, and Canada had thanked Alfred every day that he had protected Prussia and kept him as safe as he had.   
And so, when the opportunity presented to Matthew, that he could now perhaps ask China what Russia’s goals were, Canada quickly jumped at any hint of what Russia had tried to accomplish.  
"What was the original point of this so called meeting? Why take Italy and take such a backhanded way to talk to me."  
Again America cringed in his seat. ‘Talk’ was another really nice word that he disapproved of. All of this chatter about ‘talking’ and ‘meetings’ grated on his nerves. It felt like glass on a chalkboard. But again…he bit his tongue. He’d promised Matthew. Besides, he wanted to hear what China would say.   
"I had nothing do with Italy,” the older country said. “I rather we just call you directly. Russia was up to something that he no tell me or North Korea about. Italy was taken before I come with North Korea. Original meeting was..." Then his eyes filtered over to America, "Something you no like. Further trade agreement. Further alliances." China shrugged his shoulders, "Still may come to pass that we deal with each other more." It was true that no matter how much any of them suffered they still had to do what was best for their country. That never changed. Hence why Canada had come to sign all of these documents and meet with China. If he didn't it was his country that would suffer.  
China let out a heavy sigh, "They make it difficult. I want to expand alliances. You used to be actively looking for new allies Canada. With your isolationism I think maybe you be good country to get to know better. Russia also want to become more involved with your country, Canada. Hoping that with all your history as of late he drive wedge further between you two. Maybe if he get closer to you Canada it make America appear weaker."   
China turned to look at both North American twins. Perhaps the worst part of all that speech was that Russia had driven a wedge between the two brothers. Twice. In that future timeline, that would not come to pass. In the doubt he had shoved into Alfred's mind about his brother's betrayal, he had managed to kill them both in some other place and time. He had made America truly doubt his brother's love. No rift was bigger than what Russia had caused. Canada didn't make a sound as he glared down at his paper work and continued to sign away.   
China looked between the two twins then commented on what he had observed over the past few months.  
"You two get along better lately. All world see it. I simply want to approach calm country about expanding our friendship. They burn many bridge. I have not seen them since I left Russia."

America could have said a lot. He really could have. But something told him not to. He knew exactly how angry he was, and how hurt. His physical wounds from what he suffered under Russia’s hand had all healed…but there were plenty of other’s that hadn’t. Although he didn’t talk about it much with anyone, including his girlfriend and family, America understood that they all knew what he was going through. He didn’t have to talk or explain anything. They supported him anyway, the way a family should. As such, over the past few months, a lot of them had done the talking for him.  
Britain had expressed his concern several times over his son’s excessive anger about the subject. And Mexico had expressed her concern about his sorrow. They were both right in saying he needed to figure out how to get a handle on it. And finally six months after the fact, he finally felt like he was able to control it.   
The anxiety was still somewhat dreadful. Like when Matthew wanted to go to a meeting with China for example. But…he was growing to be better about that too. America may have still had to come to accompany his brother, just to be present and make sure he wasn’t going to get hurt…but…he could at least remain quiet.   
Even if they were indirectly talking about what had been done to him at Russia’s.   
It was ok.   
He trusted his brother.   
Fully and completely.   
And because of that, he knew that nothing Russia had planned would ever come to pass. He could never drive a wedge between them now. Not ever. Alfred would always believe his brother over anyone else. Even if there was evidence saying otherwise. Even if there were say…pictures involved.   
No, nothing could shake him now.   
And as such, he could sit quietly and listen to China speak so calmly about the pain he’d been put through, because he knew that Matthew would take care of it. His brother…would always be there to take care of him the way that Alfred was there for him too. And this was his country and his meeting. And so…it was Matthew’s decision on how to respond. 

Matthew pressed his pen into the paper and dragged it across the page. There was an unexpected ripping noise as it jabbed through the parchment. Canada's eyebrows which were already lowered went back up in disbelief and annoyance at the hole in his document, but he simply transferred it over to his signed stack and continued onward. He knew if this was resolved quickly they could still make it back to Mexico for the second half of their vacation. He had no urge to drag this out, but he did stop signing and turned to look over at his brother. He knew America was upset, angry, and all-in-all handling everything very well at this meeting. He had yet to fly across the table and try to get at China for what he had said.  
Canada looked from his brother back across the table at China.  
"I can't cut off trade with you or Russia. You know that. I know that. We all know that. I also can't stop you or Russia from applying for more involvement in certain things. I am still thankful you didn't let me die at Russia's. I know I wasn't in good shape there, but I'm still angry too. You could have helped my brother, but you didn't. I don't care what excuse you have for that either."   
Canada cut China's rebuttal off before he had a chance to say it.  
"I love my brother." Canada looked to America once more. "He's cocky, somewhat brash, and a lot of the time a pain in my side. However, he's also my brother, he takes care of his friends, and I think a lot of the time even if things don't go like he plans he still tries his best to be a hero. Whatever Russia was trying to do, I don't care. He kidnapped my friends, hurt my boyfriend, and tortured my brother...and I hate him for it."   
Even in anger Canada's voice was quiet, but at least it was slightly louder as he glared across the table.  
"I will never forgive him for what he did. You can tell him that. I may not be able to stop him from coming to my country for business meetings or trade meetings like this, but if I can block him, I will. I want nothing to do with him. America and I were on vacation, and I plan to get back there. I know we have to meet again this evening, and then I will see you to the airport." Canada picked up his stack of papers and hit the bottom of the pages along the table. Then he stood up and turned to his brother.  
"Let's relax until the next meeting this evening and then tonight we'll leave to meet everyone. Ok?"

America gazed at his brother, something close to amazement on his face. He knew how hard it was for Matthew to speak up about things, to speak up about anything for that matter. Especially during a diplomatic meeting such as this. He had always been the type to stay quiet, and lay low and let everything blow over. America had half expected him not to say anything to China at all. So when he did speak up, firmly, and devoutly in America’s defense, Alfred had to be touched. It meant a lot to him. More than Matthew probably even realized.   
And so, the two brothers concluded the meeting and left the conference room together. And as soon as they stepped out of the room and into the hall and away from prying eyes, America immediately moved forward. He threw his arms around his little brother, pulling him in close, and holding him tightly. Bowing his head, he pressed his blonde locks into those of his brothers.   
“Thank you…” he whispered. And he didn’t need to explain what he was thanking him for, and Matthew didn’t even need to respond. Lifting his arms, Canada hugged his brother back just as tightly. And with one good final squeeze, they parted and let one another go.   
After that, they went back to the hotel to recuperate. And after that, later in the evening, they headed back to Canada’s government building to finish up their business with China. Then, after a good night’s rest back at the hotel, they woke up early in the morning to hop back on a plane for Mexico.  
Already, Alfred was talking excitingly about the plans he had in store for everyone. And since they’d missed the first week of vacation, he was now talking about cramming all his plans into the few days they had left.   
“And we have to go see Mexico City of course!” He was raving. “And we didn’t get to enjoy the beach either. We have to do that again, properly this time! Oh! And the food! You guys have got to eat some authentic Mexican food! Maaaan! Although, Britain might die, since he doesn’t know what spices are! Maybe we can get him some plain rice, like some sort of baby! Hahaha!”   
Canada smiled, tolerating his brother as always. But even though he was being loud and obnoxious…it was good. Matthew knew that this was the way Alfred was supposed to be, meant to be. Matthew hadn’t liked it at all right after the Russian incident when he’d been quiet and withdrawn. That just wasn’t him. And so, seeing him so rambunctious once more was wonderful, even if he was disturbing everyone else on the plane.  
Landing back in Mexico, America and Canada were thrilled to find their entire group of friends waiting for them at the airport. Germany, Italy, Britain, France, Prussia and Mexico. They were all there. And as Canada ran into Prussia’s arms, and America ran to hug Mexico, Britain frowned and lowered his arms which had been open in expectation of hugs from his sons. He pouted. Then laughing, both brothers’ eventually went to hug their father too, after receiving kisses from their partners.  
“Que? Non hugs for me?” France complained. Matthew of course went to hug his papa, but America only stuck out his tongue with a very mature ‘phht!’ Mexico let out a gasp, and immediately smacked him across his arm.  
“Ow!”  
“Dat’s no way to treat jour papa!” And France of course, loved that.  
“Oui! That’s non way to treat your papa Amerique! Now you come to papa and give ‘im a big kiss!”  
“Gross! Never dude!” And this time, Mexico didn’t hit him. There was something disturbing about the look on France’s face and there was no way she was going to make America hug him now.  
“On second thought…Alfred…jou stay ‘ere wid me.” And quickly, she interlocked her arms with his. France let out a merry ‘hon hon hon.”  
The group headed back to their hotel, and all over again, just like the first time, they all changed into their bathing suits. They were going to make it to the beach damn it! And they were determined to have a wonderful time!  
And so, the second time around, the group managed to finally relax. Or…at least…relax as much as they could with all the mischief and rambunctiousness that came with the territory of such a large group of nations. Britain sat in a beach chair under the shade of one of the umbrellas, due to the fact that he burned easily.   
“It’s so bloody hot…” he complained, then reached out to the iced tea he had waiting for him to help him cool off. France, seated on the blanket beside him, could not help but to tease.  
“Zat is because you’re not used to la sun or la sky, or anything othair than rain and cold and misery. Oui?” Britain would have retaliated a bit more fiercely, but he was feeling too relaxed, and it was too hot out. And so, lazily he said,  
“Shut up Frog…” Then proceeded to take a sip from his drink. Looking out before him, was a sight to behold for a parent. America, Canada, Prussia, and Mexico were all in the water together. They played as if they were children, carefree and joyfully. Prussia and Canada were trying to smear sunscreen on each other’s faces, considering they both burned like Britain, but America and Mexico wouldn’t seem to let them. Being more southern, the sun didn’t bother them as much, and they seemed to want to play before the other couple was ready.  
“Bro! We have to do a chicken fight! Come on! Come on!” As impatient as always America prodded and pushed Canada until the younger of the two cracked and barked back in his quiet way,  
“Fine! Just shut up for a second!” America immediately bent down in the water to allow Mexico to climb up onto his back, and once he had a firm grip on her legs, he stood back up. Laughing, he ran around with her in the ocean as Canada very awkwardly tried to figure out how to mount Prussia. Blushing furiously, he went behind his boyfriend and tried to crawl up onto him, but Prussia was standing tall, and hadn’t bent down as America had. It seemed almost as if he were making it hard on Matthew on purpose.  
“I don’t zee what zee problem iz? Birdie should juzt be more aggrezzive! Like zee awezome me!”  
“Gilbert,” Matthew groaned. “I can’t…it’s slippery…” And then of course, Prussia was blushing too. And it was then, at that moment that a shadow fell over the ex nation. Blinking his red eyes and looking up, he found his brother. Germany stood tall, and like a brick wall. And on top of his shoulders Italy sat, looking as happy and as excited as ever. The couple gazed down at Prussia.  
“You might vant to let Canada up bruder, or Italy unt I vill crush you in another ten seconds.” A large grin spread over Prussia’s face at the challenge.  
“You’re on West! We will see who zee last one ztangink iz! And of course, it vill be zee awezome me!”  
“Hey!” Canada objected.   
“And Birdie too! Come on Birdie! Hop on!” And this time, bending down for his partner, Canada had no trouble climbing up onto Gilbert’s shoulders. With a grunt and a huff, the couple was up. America and Mexico, seeing that everyone was finally assembled, hurried back over to the group.  
“Awesome! Germany and Italy are going to fight too!”   
“Ok, everyvon get into a circle. Let’s do dis properly,” Germany instructed.  
“Fuck that! Ready, set, go!” America screamed. And just like that, they were off. Mexico screamed as her crazy boyfriend charged forward like a rhinoceros. But it seemed to work, because it caught poor Italy off guard, who also screamed…much in the same decibel as Mexico had.   
“Ah hahaha! Take that!” Alfred cried. But Germany wouldn’t be moved. Like the tank he was, he moved forward forcefully, smashing his poor boyfriend into Mexico.  
“Ohi! Ve!” Italy cried.   
“Nein! Italy! Use your arms you dummkopf! Not your face!”   
“Germania! I’m-a-tryiiiing!” He wailed. And then of course, Canada and Prussia, the sneaky team, had come up behind Mexico. With little warning Matthew shoved the mocha skinned nation from behind. But, with Canada being so shy and polite, he did little more than unbalance her, causing her to throw her hands forward, both palms smashing into the front of America’s face.   
“UGH! My glasses!” Alfred cried.   
“Kekekeke! Unawesome iz blind! Nowz our chance! Get em Birdie!” And then there was only a fray to watch, water and laughter spraying in every which direction as the chicken fight continued.   
Britain watched from his blanket, seated in the shade, and spitting his tea peacefully. A small smile graced his lips as he lowered his sunglasses to get a better view of the ruckus in the water before him. Countries could be disorderly, for certain. And they sure were great at bickering with one another, or causing unnecessary arguments. And sometimes they could even fight with one another on a more serious level, but…  
When they all got together like this, and everyone was able to have fun, well…it seemed like the most powerful magic in the world to Britain. It was so nice to see everyone so happy and so carefree. It warmed a spot deep within him. And perhaps, there was no greater joy for a parent than this. It was a perfect moment. And he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Normally he would have chastised them all for being such children but…like Canada had recognized on the plane, he now recognized too.  
This was who they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. We hope you enjoyed.  
> I didn't have time to revise this chapter, so I hope their aren't any glaring omissions. If their are I'll edit it soon.


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